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Full text of "Wellesley magazine"



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CONTENTS. 

Lowell, The American .... . . . Janet E. Davidson, '92 . . . 399 

The World's Sleep . . . '. . . . S. C. W., '95 ,■ . . . 410 

Little Meenie . . ». - . . . . Agnes L. Caldwell, '96 . . . 410 

Sunset . . . .*."._. . . M. H. McL 415 

Margie . Florence McMahon Painter, '97 . 415 

My Brother's Fiancee Cornelia Park, '96 . . . 418 

A Problem . . . ., ' . . . . Joanna Parker, '96 . . . 422 

Sketches . . . . . . . . Winifred Watson, '96 . . . 422 

To the Board Walk . . . .• Katharine Fackenthal, '95 .->' . 424 

A Sensitive Plant Mabel A. Carpenter, . . . 424 

At Nightfall Constance L. Bothschild, '96 . 428 

Beauty as Found in Spenser . . . Annie K. Tuell, '96 . . .■ 428 

A Girl I Know Edith Orr, '98 . . . .' 433 

Lake Dunmore . . .' . . . Anna- M. Bingham, '97 . , '.,^ 433 

Editorials .* '434 

Free Press ' "; 436 

Exchanges . 439 

Society Notes . 442 

College Bulletin 444 ' 

College Notes 444 

Alumna Notes 447 

Married 456 

Born 456 

Died 456 



idol ixt — fll>a& 1895 — mo. s 



Entered In the Post Office at Welle9ley, Mass., as second-class matter. 



Available in all countries, issued on 

MESSRS. BROWN, SHIPLEY 8 CO., LONDON. 



Exchange bought and sold on LONDON, LIVERPOOL, 
PARIS, and BERLIN. 



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50 State St., Boston. 

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and feathers cleansed or dyed. 



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I. TAILBY & SON, 

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Opposite Railroad Station, Wellesley. 

Flowers and Plants of the choicest varieties for all 
occasions; Palms, etc., to let for decoration. 

FLOWERS carefully packed and forwarded 
by Mail or Express to all parts of the United 
States and Canada. 

id®* Orders by mail or otherwise promptly attended to. 
Connected by Telephone. 

The Fisk Teachers' Agencies. 

EVERETT 0. FISK & CO., Proprietors. 

4 Ashburton Place, Boston, Mass. 
70 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y. 
803 12th Street, Washington, D. C. 
355 Wabash Avenue, Chicago, 111. 
32 Church Street, Toronto, Can. 
Century Building, Minneapolis, Minn. 
Olympia, Washington. 
I20>£ S. Spring Street, Los Angeles, Cal. 

Correspondence with employers is invited. 
Registration forms sent to teachers on application. 



SHOES 



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The latest in style, best in quality, at 
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47 TEMPLE PLACE, BOSTON. 



The Wellesley Magazine. 



Vol. III. WELLESLEY, MAY 11, 1895. No. 8. 

EDITOR IN CHIEF. 

MARY HOLLANDS MCLEAN. 
ASSOCIATE EDITOR. MANAGING EDITORS. 

JOSEPHINE H. BATCHELDER. ALETHEA LEDYARD. 

ELIZABETH A. STARK. 
LITERARY EDITORS. 
AGNES L. CALDWELL. MAUDE R. KELLER. 

MABEL A. CARPENTER. ANNIE F. WILSON. 

MARY HEFFERAN. MARY WOODIN. 

The Wellesley Magazine is published monthly, from October to June, by a board of editors 
chosen from the Senior Class. 

All literary contributions may be sent to Miss M. H. McLean, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All items of college interest, and communications to be inserted in the department of Free Press, 
will be received by Miss Josephine H. Batchelder, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All alumnae news should be sent to Miss Maude R. Keller, Wellesley, Mass. 

Advertising business is conducted by Miss Elizabeth A. Stark, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Subscriptions to the Magazine and other business communications should in all cases be sent to 
Miss Alethea Ledyard, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Terms, $2.00 per year; single copies, 25 cents. Payment should be made by money order. 

LOWELL, THE AMEEICAN. 

" Our souls grow fine 
With keen vibrations from the touch divine 

Of noble natures gone." — Lowell. 

As lovers of Lowell, we have such a personal feeling of friendship for 
him, that it is well-nigh impossible to put ourselves into the critical attitude 
with the microscope in one hand and the scalpel in the other ; and on being 
asked to write of him we feel as we do toward our dearest friends — we like 
him so much that we have never a word to say for him. That is our first 
sensation. Then, having chosen a theme, and narrowed our field of vision 
to Lowell as an American, we begin to realize that it is a piece of real self- 
sacrifice to limit ourselves to but one phase of this many-sided man, who 
was at once poet, scholar, and man of affairs ; who could understand the 
gossip of the birds and read the mystical signs of the seasons ; who could 
sound the note of freedom with a " dolorous and jarring blast," or write 
with words of "honied ease" of the birds and flowers, who were his 
"happy peers"; who could tip his arrows with the keenest, kindliest 
satire, and could never resist the chance for a pun or a rollicking bit of 
fun ; and who did it all with a Yankee handiness, a «;race, and ease that 



400 THE WELLE 'SLEY MAGAZINE. 

belonged peculiarly to himself — the most all-round man of letters that 
America has yet produced. 

But on sober second thought, the theme, "Lowell, the American-," 
seems most comprehensive, for it is on his Americanism (in the broadest 
sense of the word) that Lowell's fame is to rest. Bryant had the same 
spirit, but without Lowell's fervor ; Whittier was American to the core, but 
his special stress was upon the brotherhood of man ; Holmes is racy of the 
New England soil, but we remember him most as the master of light verse 
and the poet of occasions ; Longfellow is more bookish and English in his 
inspiration ; Emerson stands more for pure thought. But patriotism is the 
passion of Lowell's poetry, and America is the theme of his noblest verse. 
He seemed to draw his inspiration from the soil whose product he was, and 
into which he had struck roots "two centuries deep " through a long line 
of Puritan Lowells. Whether laboring for American scholarship and the 
purity of American speech, or by "Biglow Papers" provoking " the world- 
wide laugh " that was to shake half 

" The walls of slavery down ere yet the ball 
And mine of battle overthrew them all," 

as Dr. Holmes phrased it, a year or two ago ; or representing his country 
at our " Old Home" in such a way as to make our English cousins respect 
us (I had almost said, love us), he was merely translating into life and 
action his ruling motive — that love of country which could inspire the 
impassioned stanzas of the "Commemoration Ode": — 

" O Beautiful! my Country! ours once more! 
Smoothing thy gold of war-dishevelled hair 
O'er such sweet brows as never other wore, 

And letting thy set lips, 

Freed from wrath's pale eclipse, 
The rosy edges of their smile lay bare, 
What words divine of lover or of poet 
Could tell our love and make thee know it, 
Among the Nations bright beyond compare? 

What were our lives without thee? 

What all our lives to save thee? 

We reck not what we gave thee, 

We will not dare to doubt thee, 
But ask whatever else, and we will dare! " 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 401 

Only the good fairies visited Lowell's cradle, and they had all manner of 
good gifts to bestow, — a noble ancestry, a poetic temperament, a happy child- 
hood, a congenial home, and a pure social life. Add to this his birthright as 
an American, the famous New England conscience, a ballast of common sense 
and a love of freedom, and we do not wonder that the product was an 
enlightened, nineteenth centuiy Puritan. Lowell likewise put in a claim to 
the intellectual achievements of England, taking Shakespeare for his own, 
and insisting that New England had a much better right to Milton than 
England itself, thus addinsr much to his inheritance. 

Lowell's education — aside from that he 2,-arnered like a bee from the 
wild flowers of sweet Auburn, and the dandelion on his lawn, to whom he said, 

"Thou art my tropics and my Italy" — 
was gleaned from his father's library, and by " reading all the books he came 
across except those prescribed by the Harvard curriculum." He was 
suspended from college (for not attending Chapel services held at sunrise !) 
and was not allowed to read his class poem at commencement, but, true to 
the student nature, ch'cumvented "the powers aboon"by riding down from 
Concord in a covered wagon and peeping through the curtains at the 
ceremonies. But he bore no grudge on this account, and was always proud 
to be a son of fair Harvard ; and said of his college days, " Never were eyes 
so bright, never had wine so much wit and fellowship in it, never were we 
ourselves so capable of the various great things we have never done." 

When the time came for the choice of a career, he wrote to a college 
friend, "Above all things I should like to sit down and do something literary 
for the rest of my natural life." But a literary career was something 
unknown in those days. America had no literature, and no leisure in which 
to cultivate one. Law was, therefore, decided upon, in the lack of a decided 
bent for anything save poetry, and we hear of the father exacting a promise 
from his lisfht-minded son to write no more verses, though it was hard 
enough to vacate Musis, " the swate, deludering creeturs." The next letter 
says, " I intend to study law, and probably shall be chief justice of the 
United States." 

Though this prophecy was unfulfilled, we think he has a nimbus radiant 
enough for any saint. He kept at law long enough to write a story entitled 
"My First Client" (so that he must have had at least one), and then we see 



402 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

him scampering after the muse again, that " lithe, perpetual escape." But 
if the muses played the part of gay coquettes with him, his tenth muse, his 
humor, never played the deserter, and was soon to stand him in good stead. 
It is interesting, as showing the trend of Lowell's mind, that his class poem, 
which he afterwards referred to in these words, 

" Behold the baby arrows of that wit 

Wherewith I dared assail the woundless Truth ! 
Love hath refilled the quiver, and with it 
The man shall win atonement for the youth," 

was a satire upon the Abolitionists and Transcendentalists ; and that while 
under discipline at Concord, he first met Emerson, whom he characterized as 
" a good-natured man, in spite of his doctrines." In later years he was only 
too glad to own his debt of Gratitude to Emerson, signing; his letters, "Your 
liegeman," and paying him such tributes as this, "He is as sweetly high- 
minded as ever, and when one meets him the fall of Adam seems a false 
report." 

Dr. Lowell had said once to a guest upon Lowell's absenting himself 
from family prayers, " No, James is not serious yet, but he has a good heart, 
and is the foe of every mortal wrong." Gradually his opinions changed, 
until he proved himself the foe of at least one mortal wrong. The first note 
is in a poem written two years after leaving college. 

"Proprieties our silken bards environ; 

He who would be the tongue of this wide land 
Must string his harp with chords of sturdy iron, 
And strike it with a toil-embrowned hand." 

The next is in a letter: " My wings were never so light and strong as 

now. So hurrah for a niche and a laurel ! I have set about making myself 

ambitious. But I only mean to use my ambition as a staff to my love of 

freedom and man." But there were still unimagined chords to be struck. 

The young poet, who in the first happiness of an inspiring love has, like " the 

musing organist," been building 

" A bridge from Dreamland for his lay," 

now draws nearer to his theme. He is still but twenty-five years old, but 
he has not forgotten that his grandfather, Judge John Lowell, was the author 
of the antislavery clause of Massachusetts' constitution, and soon we hear 



THE WELLE SEE Y MAGAZINE. 403 

the stirring, rousing words of " The Present Crisis," which sound like noth- 
ing' so much as the burning exhortations of the prophets of Israel, and which 
cannot be read to-day by the younger Americans, to whom the slavery con- 
test is but an echo of the past, without a thrill of new devotion to their 
fatherland. Lowell was the last man one would expect to come out of his 
cloistered retreat to be jostled by the crowd ; but "the Puritan drop in his 
veins" had rebelled, and one after another the reform poems appeared, each 
to add its influence in driving Public Opinion into a corner. 

Lowell's poems of the war, covering a period of twenty years, from the 
"Stanzas on Freedom" to the greatest of them all, the "Commemoration 
Ode," are now, thanks to American school readers, well-worn; but there is 
in them, as there is in a poem like "Sir Launfal," something which appeals 
to those for whom the giant minds, Homer, Dante, or Milton, have no voice, 
— " a striking on the heart," to use Hazlitt's phrase. When the nineteenth 
century is called to account by the generations yet to be, I think that the 
one great achievement that will be set down to the glory of America will be 
the abolition of slavery ; nor will the name of Lowell be forgotten for his 
share in it. The gun that he used, — as good as Grant's guns, in its way, — 
was the old-fashioned flint-lock of his ancestors, with a long range, and his 
ammunition the very old-fashioned notions of freedom and justice ; but like 
"the embattled farmers" at Concord, he "tired a shot heard round the 
world." 

Lowell said once, "I know Yankee, if I know nothing else." "I am 
the first poet that has endeavored to express the American idea, and I shall 
be popular by and by ; only I suppose I must be dead first." That he did 
know Yankee he has proved by " Biglow Papers" ; and before his death he 
became so popular that he once threatened to employ a professional forger to 
answer his requests for autographs, and declared his intention of migrating 
to Scarborough, Maine, from which place a letter had been forwarded to him 
with the postmaster's inscription, "No such party known here." That 
Lowell was able to cast the Yankee, who had previously appeared only as a 
caricature, into an enduring mould, is his best gift to American literature. 
For two centuries New England had no poetry. It was all pulpit and strug- 
gle in those days, and the sturdy Puritans were too near to sec the poetry. 

"Biglow Papers" had all the unconscious drollery of the Yankee, and 



404 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

back of it his moral earnestness. They were not humorous for the sake of 
raising a laugh, but to save a nation. This unique kind of satire, this 
earnest humor, if I may use so incongruous a word, is a plant indigenous to 
New England. The letters of Hosea Biglow, backed by " the swal lei -tailed 
talk o' the parson," filtered through the masses, showing up the rents in the 
specious antislavery arguments, till, little by little, the whole country was 
aroused, and Lowell awoke one morning to find himself famous. "I was a 
little startled," he said, " to read my name in the list of great satirists, and 
don't feel quite sure how they will take it." Holmes said, after reading the 
first volume, " It made me wriggle all over." That was precisely the effect 
upon the people, but it aroused at the same time a sense of national right- 
eousness. Such verses as these could not fail of their purpose : — 

"Massachusetts, God forgive her, 
She' s akneelin' with the rest, — 
She, that ought to ha' clung forever 
In her grand old eagle nest." 



; The North hain't no kind o' hisness with nothin', 

An' you've no idee how much bother it saves; 
We ain't none riled by their frettin' an' frothin", 
We're used to layin' the string on our slaves,' " 
Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he; 
Sez Mr. Foote, 
' I should like to shoot 
The holl gang, by the gret horn spoon,' sez he." 

' The mass ought to labor and we lay on softies, 

Thet's the reason I want to spread freedom's aree; 
It puts all the cunninest on us in office, 
An' reelizes our Maker's orig'nal idee,' 
Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he; 
'Thet's ez plain,' sez Cass, 
'Ez thet some one's an ass; 
It's ez clear ez the sun is at noon,' sez he." 



And these upon cowardly politicians and time-serving editors : — 

" Ez to principles, I glory 

In hevin' nothin' o' the sort; 
I ain't a Wig, I ain't a Tory, 
I'm jest a candidate, in short." 



' 



THE WELLE 'SLEY MAGAZINE. 405 

"Ain't it belittlin' the Good Book in all its proudes' featurs, 
To think 'twas wrote for black, an' brown, an 'lasses-colored creaturs, 
Thet couldn' read it ef they would, nor ain't by lor allowed to, 
But ought to take wut we think suits their naturs, an' be proud to ? " 

Besides crusading against slavery, " Biglovv Papers" has preserved the 
]Se\v England dialect in all its purity, as Burns did the Ayrshire speech. 
They are the great classic on the New England idiom, which was so familiar 
to Lowell in his childhood that it seemed his natural speech. 

" I ken write long-tailed, ef I please, 
But when I'm jokin', no, I thankee; 
Then, 'fore I know it, my idees 
Run helter-skelter into Yankee." 

"An' yit I love th' unhighschooled way 
Ole farmers bed when I wuz younger; 
Their talk wuz meatier, an' 'ould stay, 
While book froth seems to whet your hunger." 

The second series has not the intense feeling of the first, but it has more 
permanent qualities as poetry. "The Courtin'," that perfect Yankee idyl, 
is fitted to stand with a Bucolic of Virgil, or Burns's "Duncan Gray cam 
here to woo." Its atmosphere is 

"Like a holsome hayin' day, thet's warm but isn't sultry." 
It is a bit of old New England "caught in the magic of speech," and is like 
the pungent, savory odor of the herbs in a New England garret. 

"Sunthin'in the Pastoral Line," has less of the " dreffle smartness" 

and argumentativeness of Hosea Biglow, and more of the potent imagination 

and subtlety of Lowell. It has something of that "warm glow, blithe 

movement, and soft pliancy of life," that Arnold ascribes to the Attic style. 

Here is a bit from his description of the halting New England spring : — 

"For half our May's so awfully like Mayn't, 
'Twould rile a Shaker or an evrige saint; 
Though I own up I like our back'ard springs, 
Thet kin' o' haggle with their greens and things, 
An' when you mos' give up, 'uthout more words, 
Toss the field full o' blossoms, leaves, an' birds; 
Thet's Northun natur', slow an' apt to doubt, 
But when it doos git stirred, there's no gin out! " 

In nothing is Lowell more American than his love of nature ; not that 

to love nature is solely an American trait, but that he loved our common, 



40(1 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

everyday home scenery, brooks, meadows, and little hills, — scenery we pass 
without notice to go in search of a Niagara, Pike's Peak, or a Yosemite. 
Lowell found a beauty in the Charles, " crooning his poems " to the meadows, 
— and in Beaver Brook, as it 

' ' Floods the dull wheel with light and grace, 
And, laughing, hunts the loath drudge round " ; 

in "the dear patient oxen, who, as they wallow along through the furrows, 
are the only good commentary on Virgil's Georgics " ; in " the balancing of 
a yellow butterfly over a thistle bloom," which provides him " spiritual food 
and lodsfino; for a whole forenoon." He was as familiar with the vernacular 
of nature about Elmwood as with the Yankee dialect. " I love Nature," he 
said, " not to be always on her high horse and with her tragic mask on." 

All the birds were friends to him ; and he would do anything for his 
friends, so we do not wonder at this : "I am turned contractor of hammock 
netting for the orioles, taking my pay in notes. I throw strings out of the 
window, and they snap them up at once. They sit in the cherry tree hard 
by and warble, ' Hurry up ! hurry up ! ' I never found out before that this 
is what they first say. A vulgarism, I admit, but native." 

He always has a good word for winter, and likes the sort of a day that 
" would gladden the heart of a polar hear" ; a day when "the thermometer 
is four below zero, and the whole earth is shining in the sun like the garments 
of the saints at the resurrection" ; a day when " the world looks like a lamb 
in white fleece (though some of us know better) ," — " a long stretch of snowy 
peace, with no track of the interviewer's hoof in it." 

The change of the seasons, the whimsical freaks of the weather and sky, 
were a constant delight to him, and more entertaining than a romance. He 
never tires of the subject, and makes so commonplace a thing as New England 
weather full of piquancy sometimes, as in this : "I am in Boston, and it is 
a rainy, dull day, such as we Americans, when we are in London, swear we 
never have in America. But we brought this wet with us from the Old Home, 
and have improved upon it, of course. When it rains here 'tis after the 
reckless fashion of our people, as if we would spend all at once. None of 
your effete-monarchy drizzles such as you have in London — penurious as the 
last drops from a washerwoman's wringing." 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 407 

The poet nature was strong in him, though for many years it had little 
outlet, and he says of himself, "I was born to sit on a fence in the sun, 
if I had my way, in those latter days of May when the uneasy bluebird 
shifts his freight of song from pillar to post, and the new green of spring is 
just passing from the miraculous into the familiar." His delight in nature 
was not like Arnold's, finding in it a consolation and sympathy for human 
sorrow, but rather like Chaucer's, pure, like that of a child, happy and con- 
tagious, making one echo his lines in " Sir Launfal," 

" 'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true, 
As for grass to be green or skies to be blue, — 
'Tis the natural way of living! " 

When Leslie Stephen first saw Lowell, in 1863, in his retreat at 
Elmwood, he thought him a complete specimen of the literary recluse. 
Few of Lowell's friends then suspected his possibilities as a public char- 
acter, nor did he himself. When the position of English Minister was 
offered him he said: "You can fancy how many of our countrymen are 
speedily convinced that I am wholly unfit to represent the great Republic 
— and all of them pass through London ! But, after all, the Senate hasn't 
confirmed me yet." However, the Senate did confirm him, and all know 
with what high seriousness he fulfilled his trust, and how he took England 
by storm. Though he insisted that he was not of the stuff that lions are 
made of, and loathed public speeches, he had to submit to being lionized, 
which he did with a good grace, and had to punctuate his days with 
speeches, which proved morsels just suited to London's palate, long sur- 
feited with English dullness, and ever on the watch for something piquant 
and new. His savoirfaire, his charm and tact, and his instinct for avoiding 
dangerous pitfalls, were partly the reasons for his success. 

But most of all was Lowell a success because he was true to himself 
and his country. AVhatever he may have left behind, it certainly was not 
his household gods, and, as Henry James said, his patriotism was the article 
in his luggage most ready to his hand. The London Spectator has called* 
Lowell the ambassador of American Letters at the Court of Shakespeare ; 
but he was more than that. In his speech on Democracy at Birmingham, 
he proved himself the ambassador of the American Republic to English 



408 THE WELLE SLET MAGAZLNE. 

Monarchy. He was never afraid to uphold the ideals of that country to 
whom his highest thoughts had ever been dedicated. England honored 
him for this, and by it he added much to our moral credit as a nation. 
Canon Farrar, at the service in memory of Lowell at Westminster Abbey, 
said, •' He was one of the sacred unions that bound England to America 
more closely." 

We have said that America was Lowell's inspiration. It remains for 
us now to discover what kind of a goddess he worshipped. Lowell was 
not a politician in the ordinary sense of the word, but he was a politician 
of the higher sort, who is something more than a partisan. In politics, as 
in religion, he was an independent, — a conservative. He did not believe that 
the bottom was ever likely to drop out of the world : and near the end of 
his life, when his dreams were over, said, "I have still the same confidence 
as ever, impudent Yankee that I am, in the sense and nerve of the people." 
He did not believe that America was great merely because she was bi<Z", and 
had a tine contempt for American boasting and vanity ; he did not believe 
that America had a patent on Democracy as her own invention, nor did he 
think it would " go of itself any more than the perpetual motion." 

Indeed, he went farther than that ; he boldly asserted that democracy 
was no more sacred than monarchy — that it was man who was sacred. He 
did not think America the only country on the globe, but recognized our 
inheritance from older lands. I think he had a special fondness for anything 
that had roots, whether a tree or a belief, prizing as he did " whatever helps 
to 2ive continuitv to the beius: and doins: of man and an accumulated force 
to his character." 

Lowell was not a fanatic in his love of America an}* more than he was 
on the antislavery question, though proud to sign his name to it. He could 
sympathize deeply with. the South, who, as nobly as the Xorth, staked her 
all. He did not think America a chosen people with a first claim upon 
Providence, but he loved her, as he said in his "Epistle to Curtis," 

"So as only they 
Who lore a mother fit to die for may." 

Lowell's patriotism was, as we see it in the Commemoration Ode, for 
example, a magnificent fabric woven out of his purest thoughts and highest 



THE WELLEsLEY MAGAZINE. 409 

aspirations. His ideal for America was for a state founded upon pure man- 
hood, — upon "that excellent new thing we call Americanism, which is, I 
suppose, that 'dignity of human nature' which the philosophers of the hist 
century were always seeking, and which, after all, consists in not thinking 
yourself either better or worse than your neighbor by reason of any 
artificial distinction." 
Lowell's last days — 

" Calm days that loiter with snow-silent tread " — 

were spent, as he had often wished, at his lifelong home, where he could 
hear again his 

'•Elniwood chimney" s deep-tkroated roar," 

and could see the birds 

"Swim on sunshine, masterless as wind,'" 
and could watch the leaves fall, one by one, 

•'Balancing softly earthward without wind." 

One by one the friends were going, and I fancy "the yaller pines'" must 
have sung to him now. 

"Scheiden! aeh, scheiden! " 
"The lesson for us," he says, "is to close up, and I think we are drawn 
nearer by these things, — though Death seems less solemn than he used, now 
that we have seen him so often look at the number on our door on his way 
to knock at a neighbors." But Cambridge is no longer a quiet village ; it 
has " wriggled itself out of its chrysalis" into a gay butterfly, and the house 
at Elmwood is " full of ghosts." "The telegraph," he laments, " has eosino- 
politanized us in spite of ourselves ; the whole world has but one set of 
nerves, and we all have the headache together;" but "Xature grows more 
and more companionable as one grows older, and the Earth more motherly 
tender to one who will ask to sleep in her lap so soon." Thus after a life as 
fair and untarnished as Sir LaunfaPs " maiden mail," having found 

"Her 
Whom the gods love, Tranquility," 

he entered at last into "the chamber whose name is Peace," and which 

" opens toward the sunrismg.'" 

Jaxet E. Davidsox, '92. 



410 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 



THE WORLD'S SLEEP. 

Haste, cover yourself in the shrouded skies, 

Faint moon, with your broken ring; 
And, curious stars, bind fast your eyes 

With the clouds that the rain winds bring. 
Deep, motionless night, with your mantle dark 

Of silence and shadow deep, 
Bend closer while watching, the long hours mark, 

And let the old world sleep. 

Whispering wind of the wandering feet, 

Steal back to the forest shade ; 
Break not the quiet so still, so sweet, 

That over the world is laid: 
For the world is so weary, so sad with woe, 

Wake it and it will weep; 
Compassionate wind, breathe soft and go, 

And let the old world sleep. 



LITTLE MEENIE. 



S. C. W., '95. 



I seldom allow myself to leave everyday practicalities, and drift into 
that midway world, of meditation and reminiscence ; but to-night the snow 
has muffled all things, and the noise of the world comes to me from afar off; 
my fire burns dreamily, and its faint murmur says over and over, " Remem- 
ber." Its flickering blaze shows remote corners, unfathomable in the 
darkness ; it falls half across an open piano and a great bowl of roses 
receding in the gloom ; but a soft light brings out from among the shadows 
and gently enfolds a quaint old banjo. I can only follow the musing fire- 
light, and the room is but a frame for my picture. Ever, in my dream, 
beside the great banjo stands a wee girl, with two very laughing blue eyes, 
and two very long yellow braids, tied with two very small red bows. A 
tiny, spotless white cap, a wonderfully short plaid dress, and bright red 
stockings, add a world of color and life. Two chubby hands hold daintily 
the tiny skirt ; one small foot is lightly pointed outward ; and the bright 
head is saucily atilt— waiting for the music. Ah, Meenie, little Meenie ! 

I cannot write to-night, I cannot play ; I would not, but only think ; 
and, in memory, I am a boy, just twelve years old, a silent, sensitive child, 
living wholly within myself, creating a queer world of my own. I 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 411 

delighted in writing stories, and yet more in playing for hours, seeking 
to find what weird, fantastic tales the keys would tell to me. I was an 
only child, and every wish, every whim of mine was satisfied ; every 
effort was made to bring me out of my queer world of dreams, and to 
interest me in a real world and its people. But my only friend and con- 
fidant was my old music teacher, the embodiment of a beautiful ideal to 
the sensitive, dreaming boy. 

I can see him now, and his wee house in a long, dark, narrow part of 
the city. But we forgot that the house was small ; we forgot that the street 
was dingy ; we forgot that life was not one long fairy tale, or even that we 
lived at all, when we sat together and the old professor played. If I could 
paint, I should give that picture to the world, and the world in turn would 
give me love and honor — the little room warm and rosv from the great log 
on the tiny hearth ; the slanting rays from a departing winter sun peeping 
enviously through the small window ; and around, beautiful banjos and 
mandolins, guitars of gay cavaliers, violins of an age gone by, all lovingly 
silent ; while in front of the piano sat the little German, his head thrown 
slightly back, his white hair curling softly about his face and falling across 
his high forehead; his hands caressing the keys, persuading them, and then 
waiting for the answer ; and his eyes resting lovingly on the little form 
beside him, — a tiny girl, with a rosy face laid against a great violin. And 
the beautiful strains rose and rose until the heart of the boy listening was 
bursting for joy. 

Professor Helveti lived in the little house, in the world, I might say, 
with Meenie and music for his only companions. I never knew his story, 
but his eyes told me it was one of sorrow : and his life, that it was one of 
self-sacrifice. When I knew him he lived in the little house, and worked 
early and late on his beautiful instruments. I often wondered why a man 
with such marvellous talents did not live higher in the world; but perhaps 
his life had been lived ere I met him. To him Meenie was life and soul, 
and his cherished wish was that some day she might go to his loved 
Germany to study, and then give the world a second Paganini. The 
child certainly had remarkable talent, and ever since she had been able 
to hold a violin, she had worked steadily at her music; but now that she 
knew all her father could teach her, he could only make violins, and he 



412 THE WELLE SEE Y MAGAZINE. 

worked determinedly on them and their sweet-voiced companions, that the 
little girl might go elsewhere for training. But all his savings were put 
into the next materials, and so it ever was ; simple, beautiful soul, loving 
the little girl too much to give up the work, loving his work too much to 
keep from it any money that might make it grander. I have learned since 
that he also loved the world, and gave to its suffering out of his need. 

Guests rarely came to the little house. To them and every one the 
Professor was beautifully courteous, but silent. He could never be induced 
to play in public. Meenie and I were his only audience, his only pupils ; 
but the little house was not cheerless, at least for Meenie and me. The 
Professor was always bright with us; and such a rosy, chubby, dimpled 
source of life and laughter as Meenie, I have never seen. At first, I used 
to sit in mute astonishment. I could not conceive of finding pleasure in 
such incessant motion. Her hands were always busy. She had a host 
of dolls, with a host of long German names ; and all the dolls were musi- 
cians. Each had her favorite instrument ; but the prettiest one, Meenie's 
most loved Gretchen, always played the violin. Meenie could cook, too, 
— very queer dishes, but I never refused to eat them. But the little girl 
loved music as well as I — ah! better, Meenie, better; and when she held 
her great violin, and the little room o'erflowed with melody, I felt that 
Meenie knew me as I knew myself. I forgot to wonder at her ; I forgot 
to be silent with her. I was soon a professor of music, and was giving all 
the dolls lessons, — all except Gretchen. 

I used to think — I still think — Meenie had the biggest heart in the 
world. I loved my own father and mother with all my heart, I thought ; 
but when I saw Meenie with her father, my own love seemed petty. Baby 
that she was, she never lost an opportunity of showing her devotion. In 
the midst of her play she would run up to her father and pat his head, 
bent so earnestly over the work for her. If he seemed tired, Meenie would 
play to him ; when he was worried — I could never tell, but Meenie knew — 
she was never noisy ; but when he was glad, she was bubbling over with 
mirth . 

Then, when I knew Meenie better, she danced for me. I shall never 
forget that afternoon. The Professor was in the happiest spirits, and Meenie 
was irresistible. The Professor played the banjo, and the little girl seemed 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 413 

scarcely to touch the floor. Her every movement was grace. The long- 
braids came loose, and a mass of golden hair fell about her. First with the 
castanets, then with the tambourine, she danced, until my admiration was 
limitless, and the old Professor was radiant. Then Meenie stopped, and I 
forgot her and the yellow hair and the tambourine ; I saw only the Professor's 
banjo. It was unusually large, and now that I forgot the dancing, I realized 
that its tone was superb. The handle was inlaid with pearl, and the frets 
and rim were of silver. My admiration for it pleased the Professor, and he 
told me that he had made it himself a long while ago ; but when I asked him 
if he would sell it, his face grew very sad, and he said, " Never, Frederick, 
never;" and then added, pathetically, "unless I shall have to." When I 
knew more of the Professor I learned that he only played his banjo when he 
was happiest and brightest ; and his love for it seemed nearer akin to that 
for Meenie than any other. 

So we lived a bright dream life, Meenie and I ; and we believed that 
one day we should all live together in a great house with three beautiful 
music rooms, and that the Professor should make silver and pearl banjos, or 
even gold ones if he liked, to keep and not to sell ; and that Meenie and I 
should always play together. But one morning I awoke from my dream, as 
we must inevitablv do, and it was a strange awakening. 

For weeks the Professor had been in the most jovial spirits. He had 
played the beautiful banjo, and Meenie had danced, and I had hurrahed and 
applauded, and begged the Professor for the banjo ; but he had always 
smiled half sadly, and had answered, "Not yet; Freddie, not yet." I 
thought, too, the Professor was working harder, for even to me he looked 
older ; but I was too happy to think. Then, one sunny afternoon, when the 
dance was finished, and the little girl, flushed and breathless, had thrown 
her arms about her father's neck, my joy was made complete. The Professor 
said very simply, " Freddie, I'll sell you the banjo to-night, lad." 

My father, always indulgent, gave me the money, and I promised him 
that I would strive more earnestly to overcome my greatest fault. That 
night I carried home my long-wished-for treasure ; but my heart was thump- 
ing very quecrly, and I could not forget that Meenie and the Professor had 
both kissed me when I left, and I could still hear Meenie calling as they 
stood in the little doorway, "Freddie, be dood to fater's banjo." I have 



414 THE WELLE8LEY MAGAZINE. 

been good to it, and I shall always be, little Meenie ; but why did you not 
tell me you were going to leave me? I should never have told, — but you did 
not ; and the next morning I found the wee house empty, all the sweet song- 
birds gone, and the kind old man and the beautiful child. I thought my 
heart was broken, poor, sensitive little boy, — but it wasn't; and I kept my 
promise to my father. When I learned to know other girls, though, they 
were not like Meenie ; and when I went to college, and when I left it and 
went out into the world, I never forgot my two dear playmates for a moment, 
and I always felt that some day we should yet live together in the beautiful 
house, Meenie and I, if the Professor could not be with us. 

I waited and waited twelve busy years ; and then I grew tired of wait- 
ing, the old restlessness came back to me. I could not pass the little house 
in the dingy street, it was so different now. The banjo seemed always to 
look at me with a sweet, reproachful face, — the Professor's own. I left the 
great city, and wandered to the queerest, remotest places I could find, leaving 
now and then some address by which to trace me. I had traveled almost a 
year, and had gone back to my starting point, ready to set sail for home. 
But something I found there detained me. It was a letter, covered with 
postmarks and directions. Poor little letter ; it had been forwarded from 
home, and had followed me to many countries, arriving always when I had 
gone, until at last, almost worn out, it had come here to await me. And 
this was what it said. Ah ! yes, I remember it all : — 

Dear Freddie: You have perhaps forgotten Meenie and the. little house, but 
I know you have not forgotten the Professor, and for his sake I ask this. He can- 
not live, the doctor says ; and constantly he begs for his banjo. I have never 
known just why he loved it so ; but he gave it up for me, and now I ask you to let 
me redeem it. Meenie. 

Let her redeem it ! Why had I ever taken it? But I was only a boy, 
I could not know ; and now it was too late. But then I thought of the 
beautiful house, and the music and joy unending, and I did not go home ; I 
went to Germany, to the quaint old town of music, but Meenie was not 
there. They looked at me questioningly when I asked about her ; and then 
perhaps they saw that I loved her as they did ; and they told me how she had 
brought their little world to her feet, and was soon to have brought a greater 
one, but her father had died ; and then — they did not know. 



THE WJELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 415 

I waited, hoping, wondering. The next day was Sunday, and I found 
my way to early mass. I had only been seated a few moments when a long 
line of nuns glided silently into the cathedral ; first the black-veiled sisters, 
then the novices in white ; but among them I saw only one face, almost as 
white as the spotless veil, and strangely beautiful. I sought out the convent 
of the Immaculate Conception. I asked the sweet-voiced Mother Superior 
if I might see the young novice, Meenie Helveti. At first there was no 
answer ; and then I heard the words, almost inaudible, " Sister Marie Theresa 
took the final vows to-day." 

I have the beautiful house now, and music every day, but there is only 
one music room, and that is mine. 

Agnes L. Caldwell, '96. 

SUNSET. 

The golden glory quivers on the lake; 

A robin's vesper note sounds clear and true; 
Beyond the far hill line, one long, pale cloud 

Lies like a thought of God across the blue. 

M. H. McL. 

MAEGIE. 

It has been my good fortune to know in this world one hero, — and 
Margie. The hero is John Corrigan, who has the finest brogue and the 
dirtiest clothes I have ever met with. In a village with twenty saloons to 
fifteen hundred inhabitants, he refused, when lying at the point of death, to 
take the stimulants the doctor assured him were necessary to save his life. 
He lived peaceably within forty feet of the most quarrelsome neighbors a 
man could have, while his wife refused to speak to them for fourteen years. 
He is two of the best things it is possible to be, — a faithful laborer and an 
honest man ; I think probably he cannot sign his name. But I started to 
tell, not of him, but of Margie. 

My acquaintance with Margie began seven years ago, when we were 
boarding in her grandfather's farmhouse one summer. She was at that time 
three years old, and in as fair a way of being spoiled as a child ever was. 
Her mother was dead ; her grandfather and her three strapping uncles were 
hopeless ne'er-do-weels, and at that time, as more or less ever since, their 



416 1HE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

principal use of their leisure was to worship at the shrine of the beautiful 
child ; and their leisure, alas, was all the time, except the very little em- 
ployed in fishing, chopping wood, or otherwise helping out the household 
arrangements. Her grandmother was a breezy, big-hearted countrywoman, 
but, like the others, painfully thriftless. A family of millionaires could not 
have had more time to devote to one baby. Lastly, there was her father off 
in a Connecticut factory, sending a good part of his earnings to be spent on 
the child who kept for him the memory of his lovely wife. 

Yet the combined and untiring efforts of these six, with their friends 
and neighbors, had so far been insufficient to make Margie wilful, selfish, or 
vain. The only time I can remember her showing anything at all like im- 
periousness, was when, in the question of a certain ever-fascinating rag bag, 
which was for some reason refused, she amiably said, " Give it to me quick, 
before I cry." It was said without the slightest petulance and with perfect 
sweetness ; it was, in fact, merely in the way of an argument, for when the 
rag bag was still withheld there was not a sign of the threatened catastrophe. 

It is very hard to refrain from trite quotations in the case of Margie, — 
references to gems of purest ray serene, and questionings of Perdita's being 
the only low-born lass whose actions smacked of something too noble for her 
place. With all her gentleness, Margie, at three years old, had a pride, and 
sensitiveness, and instinctive good breeding that were simply astonishing 
when you considered how little she could have gained these things from her 
environment, and how they were quite as unaccounted for by heredity. She 
had a resolute little courage of her own, too. She would bravely talk to 
my mother, for whom she had the deepest awe ; and she would of her own 
free will force herself to pat Fluff, the Yorkshire terrier, — rather gingerly, 
indeed, as if he were hot, but still pat him, although she lived in terror of 
him. 

Naturally, we agreed among ourselves that Margie would never grow 
up. A child as beautiful as an angel, with a disposition so supernaturally 
sweet, who was allowed to sit up until ten o'clock every night, to eat cookies 
continually between meals, and to drink strong tea or coffee three times a 
day, is not one of the children that thrive in this world. But then, we 
argued, perhaps it would be better for her not to grow up, the dear child ! 
She was too lovely and delicate a creature for this earth, — least of all for the 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 417 

surrounding she was placed in. She was a poor little humming bird, some- 
how by mistake slipped into a nest of honest, idle sparrows ; only with the 
difference that if she lived she would grow into a sparrow herself, and use 
sparrow speech, and live sparrow life ; and the process of change would be 
infinitely more painful to her than it could be for us to see. We used to 
grow quite metaphysical, talking over the case; and having analyzed it to 
our own entire satisfaction, would launch into generalities and pessimism, 
and grow quite happy again at our own cleverness. 

Well, as I have said, that was all seven years ago. In those seven 
years we have had, besides the satisfaction of feeling that you have found 
the two alternatives between which the future is bound to choose, the added 
satisfaction of seeing the future choose a way entirely different from both, 
and altogether happier than either. We have seen Margie go through the 
dreadful years from six to nine, when teeth come out, and length and lean- 
ness increase, and pertness is lord of all ; but we have never known her 
disagreeable for an instant. We have seen her the pet not only of a family 
but of a neighborhood, yet remaining with as little egotism as a child could 
have ; we have seen her the playmate of the sparrow children, without gain- 
ing a trace of their rudeness, and of children from homes that are considered 
far better, yet a sort of indescribable fineness placed her far above them all ; 
and always without the least priggishness, — a thorough child among children. 
I am not vaporizing about something I am not sure of; I am describing a 
little girl whom I know very well ; and I am not eulogizing the virtues of 
the departed, for in spite of everything Margie is a strong child to-day, 
thanks to an out-of-door life in a glorious climate. 

So neither of our prophecies has been fulfilled. Margie lives and 
thrives, and is still unroughened and unspoiled. But I wish I could forget a 
look that kept coming over her face the last time she came to see me. She 
still comes once in a while, and we talk over old times and the Yorkshire 
terrier. It was a dreary day enough, and I was very busy, but still the at- 
mosphere was not depressing enough to account for all the wistful sadness of 
that'expression, — the look of a child troubled with a sorrow it cannot under- 
stand. It is only in fairy tales, alas, that we can end with, "And they lived 
happily ever afterwards ;" and life differs in some respects from most fairy 
tales. At least, Margie's does. Florence McMahon Painter, '97. 



418 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 



MY BEOTHER'S FIANCEE. 

It was the first day of the fall term. My roommate and I were kneel- 
ing in the middle of the room unpacking. Four or five other girls stood 
about watching us at work, and bewailing their less fortunate lots, for their 
trunks had not as yet " come up." In the meantime they were helping us 
to increase the general confusion about, taking the articles as we handed 
them up from our trunks, subjecting each new gown or hat to a series of com- 
ments and questions, and then adding it to the fast-growing heaps on the 
chairs, tables, and couch, or laying it on the floor in a " muss," such as can 
be understood and appreciated only by that most experienced of " mussers," 
the college girl, packing or unpacking. 

Suddenly I drew from my trunk a photograph, and giving it a hasty 
glance, I waved it excitedly above my head, crying, "Aha; behold my 
future sister-in-law!" "Oh, where?" "What's her name?" "Is she 
nice ! " " When was it announced?" "Why didn't your brother wait till 
he had seen us before he chose a partner?" " Oh, isn't she nice ! " "Let 
me see ! " came tumbling about my ears in such a volley of words that I could 
only sit and laugh as the girls all leaned over me and scrambled to get a look 
at the picture, for "my brother Jack" had been well drummed into those 
young ladies' ears during all our Freshman year, and by this time they re- 
garded him quite as personal property. 

While our visitors, however, had manifested such lively interest and 
enthusiasm over my little announcement, my roommate had remained on her 
knees before her trunk, saying not a word, but watching us with a surprised 
and puzzled look on her face. She was just beginning to speak when the 
heavy rumbling of cart wheels fell upon our ears, and one of the girls jumped 
away from the group leaning over Margaret's photograph, ran to the window, 
and crying, " Ah, my trunks at last !" darted quickly from the room. This 
was a signal for the other girls to follow, on a quest for their own baggage, 
and my roommate and I were left alone. 

" You don't mean to say, Edith, that Jack and Margaret have at last 
acknowledged themselves engaged?" my roommate said. She had visited 
at my home only a month before, and had learned then how for two years 
Jack had been devoted to my particular friend, Margaret Bassett ; how we 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 419 

in the family — and town, too, for that matter — all took it for granted that 
some understanding existed between the two, but how utterly impossible it 
was for any of us to know anything definite about the matter until they 
themselves chose to enlighten us. But to enlighten us was the one thins; 

o o o 

that Mr. Jack and Miss Margaret didn't see fit to do. Was it because they 
had lacked drawing out? Well, not exactly ! Both in my capacity as sister 
and as confidential friend, I had labored as only a sister or a confidential 
friend can labor. All summer long I had denied myself the pleasure of get- 
ting up to an early breakfast with the family merely for the sake of sharing 
my lazy brother's later meal. Each morning as he had come down I had 
taken pains to impress it upon his mind that if it had not been for me, the 
maid would have let his breakfast get cold. Each morning I had sat and 
poured his coffee, serving him with sisterly patience and sweetness ; I had 
drawn him into speculative talk as to what we should do after we left college, 
and had assured him that the only prospect of his ever getting rich lay in 
marrying money, hoping to hear him deny it, or show some sign of disagree- 
ment, for Margaret is by no means a wealthy girl. I had made him sofa 
pillows, racket covers, and college flags galore, but it all availed me nothing 
toward the question at stake. I knew just what he thought of every other 
girl in our circle of acquaintance, and just what intercourse he had with each 
one, but whenever our talk drifted around to Margaret, it became stilted, so 
to speak, and as nearly conventional as Jack's language can be. A certain 
constraint would suddenly make itself felt, and the conversation never seemed 
to thrive, nor ever get beyond a certain point. 

As confidential friend my success was no better. No matter how much 
I confided to her — and I confided to her everything I knew, and more — no 
matter how much she confided to me in return, the one subject of her rela- 
tions to my brother, Margaret most carefully and studiously avoided ; I 
suppose because he was my brother. 

And so, when my roommate came to see me, though we all felt well- 
nigh certain that Jack and Margaret were engaged, no one could absolutely 
say so, and we had all concluded that they had decided — most wisely, my 
mother said — not to announce any engagement until Jack should be grad- 
uated from college. Therefore it was most natural that my roommate should 
be surprised when I suddenly put my "future sister-in-law" on public ex- 
hibition in this style. 



420 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

"Well, no, my dear," I said in answer to her question; "I hadn't 
heard any engagement announcement before I left home, but I had seen one. 
While I was in the midst of my packing, the very morning of the day I 
came away, Margaret and her sister — you met Mary, — Mrs. Shaw, — didn't 
you? — came in to say good-bye. Both my father and sister came into the 
room to see them, and as we all sat there talking together, suddenly I saw 
something that made me fairly jump with surprise. I was terribly afraid 
the rest saw me start. Margaret had raised her hand to stick in a hairpin, 
and there, right on her engagement finger, was a beautiful great big dia- 
mond ! Why, I couldn't take my eyes away from it. It didn't seem as if 
I could sit there much longer without making some sign, but with so many 
people in the room I couldn't approach such a subject, you know ! I was 
trying to think of some excuse for taking Margaret into another room for a 
moment, when just then Mrs. Shaw rose, and said they must hurry home. 
So I decided I should have to give Margaret her 'address of welcome' into 
our family by letter, and gave up the thought of saying anything about it 
there. But Margaret looked a little surprised at the enthusiasm of my fare- 
well ; it was rather more joyful than usual, you know. As soon as I could get 
hold of papa I asked him if he had seen the ring, saying of course that meant 
the announcement of the engagement. He looked properly pleased and appre- 
ciative for just about three minutes, and then the queerest, most puzzled, 
anxious, but amused expression came over his face that ever I saw there. 

" ' What's the trouble?' I said ; 'aren't you delighted at the prospect?' 

" 'Yes, indeed,' he said, in an absent-minded way; 'but where, how, 
and when do you suppose that son of mine ever saved enough money to buy 
a diamond ring ? ' 

"'Oh !' I returned blankly, and for a moment I had awful visions of 
other fellows who might have given Margaret that ring. Just then, however, 
the doorbell rang, and there was the hackman for my trunk, and my trunk 
not half packed ! Then I just had to fly around to finish packing and catch 
my train ; so now, you see, I must begin on my address of welcome. Good- 
ness, whatever shall I say?" 

My roommate gave me a compassionate smile, and said, " It's fortunate 
for you that you have only one brother to do this sort of thing for." I was 
quite ready to adopt those sentiments at the end of an hour and a half, when 



' THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 421 

I began to copy the results of my labor. I told Margaret how it had always 
been the desire of my heart that she should be the additional member of our 
family. I dilated on my brother's good taste in his choice of gems, not 
only gems of the mineral world, but gems of humanity ( !) ; and after dwell- 
ing long and earnestly on my hopes that life might prove harmonious and 
realize our anticipations on both sides, and that she might never be disap- 
pointed in her choice, it was with unbounded happiness that I signed myself 
her sister, etc. 

The letter, duly read and approved by my roommate, went. In the 
hurry and confusion of the first days of the college year I forgot all about 
it, and about home affairs in general. But when, the next week, I opened 
the following letter aud began to read, I remembered : — 

My dear Edith : 

You don't know what a surprise your last letter was ; we haven't got over 
laughing at it yet. Mamma, and Mary, and I, whenever we think or speak of you, 
just sit down and shake with the funniness of it. My dear, that ring is Mary's ! 
You know her cook left suddenly, and when I went in there the next day (Mrs. 
Shaw lived in the next house to Margaret), Mary was preparing to knead some 
bread. She slipped off her rings and gave them to me, and I forgot to give them 
back before we went down to your house. I am very sorry to have to disappoint 
you so, my dear, but do try to bear up. 

Then there was a skilful transition to other matters, and the writer 
concluded : — 

As always, your loving friend, 

Margaret. 

As soon as I had sufficiently recovered from the shock of disappoint- 
ment and mortification that followed, I began to consider my further course 
of action. Should I, a Sophomore, allow myself to be overcome by such 
a trifle? Margaret had not denied that she was engaged to Jack. I pon- 
dered long and earnestly. At last an inspiration seized me — the one inspira- 
tion of my life; and may it continue so to be ! I seized my pen and 
wrote : — 



422 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

My dear Margaret : 

Yes, I was disappointed when I first read your letter, but after looking it over 
more carefully I have decided that I have no reason for feeling so, after all. For I 
notice that you carefully avoid denying that you really are engaged, and, after all, 
that is the point, and not that little episode of the ring. But far be it from me to 
seem to be forcing your confidence ! Just let me ask one thing of you, — keep my 
letter. I am sure that it will be more or less appropriate some time. Aud when 
that time comes, as I know it is bound to do, take it out and read it. 

Your loving and hopeful friend, 

Edith. 

That time does not seem to have come yet. I am still waiting and 
hoping. But it is not my fault, is it, if Margaret is not my brother's Bancee ? 

Corxelia Park, '96. 



A PROBLEM. 

If eighteen girls in sixteen minutes ask a nineteenth girl if she has 
"done anything" on her brief; and if each question and answer requires on 
the side of the questioned one the loss of three tenths of the store of 
patience she keeps on hand ; aud if all nineteen girls are obliged to remain 
within one large room for two hours ; what will be the result (1) when the 
brief is taken into account, (2) when the store of patience is exhausted, 
(3) when the nineteenth becomes one of the eighteen and one of the eigh- 
teen takes the place of the nineteenth? 

Joanna Parker, '96. 



SKETCHES. 

IN A HOP FIELD. 



In every direction there were avenues of hop vines. I stood in the 
middle of a labyrinth of sunlight and shadow and looked away down through 
the vistas to where the e}'e lost itself in a confusion of clusters and leaves. 
Here and there were groups of chattering Indian girls in straight, blue 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 423 

frocks, with strong, full arms upraised in the picking. Now and then a 
singsong voice would drawl, " Box full," and the overseer would come with 
hop pole and tickets, smiling good-naturedly under his broad hat as he ran 
his arm up to the elbow in each freshly gathered heap. 

And the last thing I remembered as I walked down the healthful green 
avenues was Matie Lasch'pelle with hop vines like a scarf around her neck, 
and hiding the brim of her hat, and falling with stray bits of hair over her 
forehead as she stood like a brown, propitious dryad, all sunshine, and 
smiles, and leaves. 



A BROWNIE. 

After school we went to the woods for ferns and wild flowers to decorate 
the chapel. The children went ahead carrying baskets. We followed a 
cool, muddy path for half a mile or more, then somebody said, " You may 
go now, boys," and in the twinkling of an eye there wasn't a child in sight, 
and there remained only the impression of a dozen backs whisking into the 
green. 

Then the brownie came with his hands full of Indian Pipe, and laid it in 
my lap with his bewitching, individual smile. His mouth went up at the 
corners, and he raised one eyebrow after the other, glancing at me sideways 
with his funn3 r , round, black eyes. He did the same way when we differed 
in school, except that the corners of his mouth went down. He was a quaint, 
brown thing amidst all the green. O yes, he could show me where the 
Indian Pipe growed ; he knowed where they was lots. 

" Run on," I said ; " I'll follow you." 

What a chase the little brown will-o'-the-wisp led me ! Under logs, 
over logs, through bushes, under bushes, over stumps, straight on, till way 
down by a swamp we found the "ghost flowers," pure, and white, and 
glistening. 

And I can no more think how the brownie found the Indian Pipe than I 
know what guides a sparrow. 

Winifred Watson, '96. 



424 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 



TO THE BOARD WALK. 

One morn sad voices told us you were gone : 
With measured, slow, and heavy tread they bore 
Your shattered form away. Too late t' implore 
Forgiveness, that we loved you not ! Alone 
You dwelt, down-trodden and oppressed. 'Tis done, 
Your life of usefulness to us; no more 
You'll guide our erring footsteps, nevermore 
Uphold us as our hurried course we run. 
Faith bids us hope that you will come again 
From out the dark place where they laid you low, 
To wander o'er the hillside and the paths 
Across the lawn; to guide, perhaps, through rain, 
Or hail, or sleet, or winter's deepest snow, 
Some other footsteps with your cross-laid laths. 

Katharine Fackenthal, '95. 



A SENSITIVE PLANT. 

"Oh, Grandma! Please may I go over to Miss 'Gusty's a little 
while?" Marjory's voice was shrill with eagerness, and she raised her 
flushed face anxiously as she spoke. Mrs. Jordan looked to make sure 
that the chubby hands and pink pinafore were clean ; then she said, " Yes. 
But don't run and get all het up," she cautioned. 

"Will you take a note to Miss 'Gusty forme?" called Aunt Mattie 
from the kitchen. "It's right on the desk." Careless Aunt Mattie ! She 
had forgotten that an unfinished note to her dearest friend was also on the 
desk. Marjory willingly took the bit of paper, folded it, and giving 
grandma a good-bye kiss, trudged off. 

The warm sunshine of late afternoon was pouring into every nook and 
corner of the old-fashioned garden, where poppies, hollyhocks, verbenas, 
foxglove, and larkspur had sprung up in wild but delightful confusion. A 
riotous bed of sweet peas just now held the attention of Miss 'Gusty, who 
was on her knees trying to straighten the tangled vines. She was so intent 
upon her work that she did not notice Marjory fumbling at the gate, until 
the child called, " Miss 'Gusty ! Miss 'Gusty ! " Then the woman scrambled 
awkwardly to her feet and came with rapid strides down the walk. As she 
caught sight of the little girl the stiff lines of her face relaxed into a smile ; 






THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 425 

and pulling back the heavy weight and chain, she said playfully, " Ye haint 
been to see me for a 1-o-o-ng time." 

The child entered, laughing. " Don't you 'member I came yesterday?" 
asked she. The woman knotted her brows for an instant, as if in doubt. 
"Well, I declare, so ye did," she admitted, at length. Then they both 
laughed together, as Miss 'Gusty took her note and stopped in the middle 
of the path to read it. 

The little girl bent down to a sensitive plant at her side and brushed 
her fingers gently over it. The leaves drew together with a shudder, as it 
in pain. "Oh! it always hurts," murmured the child, compassionately. 
She did not hear Miss 'Gusty's quick gasp. "What a funny plant you 
are ! " she cried, as, at a second touch, the curious leaves again shrivelled 
up. "Well, I won't do it any more. Miss 'Gusty, have the robins eaten 
up all your berries? " Miss 'Gusty smiled faintly. "Let's go'n see," she 
said, tucking the scrap of paper into the loose front of her dress. 

Her face grew suddenly old as the smile left it, and she walked along 
without speaking until they had reached the bushes. Then, with an effort, she 
aroused herself, and soon had the child interested in a story, as they picked 
the crimson fruit. When they had filled a tiny basket for Marjory to take 
home, they sat a few moments on the piazza in the cool shade of a rose- 
covered lattice. Miss 'Gusty brought out a plate of caraway cookies and a 
tumbler of shrub, with which they were just beginning to play feast, Marjory 
being a princess and Miss 'Gusty her servant, when Annie Brewer came 
along, and thrusting her head between the fence pickets, called out, ex- 
citedly, " O Marjory ! there's a bear down street that can dance, and your 
gran'ma says you can go and stay till the whistle blows. So hurry ! " And 
Marjory, in her haste, came near leaving her basket behind, and could 
hardly wait for her sunbonnet to be tied. 

Miss 'Gusty shaded her eyes with her hand as she watched the 
children disappearing down the long, dusty roadway. She stood motion- 
less in the same position even after the two little figures had passed out of 
her sight. Her indigo print dress hung in skimpy folds barely to her ankles. 
Her pale hair was drawn back into a tight knob beneath her rusty garden 
hat. Her face was deeply wrinkled; her eyes, once blue, were now faded 
into a dull gray. She had always worked hard, and she looked even more 
tired than old. 



426 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

As she turned to go in, she stooped with a sudden impulse and touched 
the sensitive plant almost fiercely ; but she sighed as she entered the house. 
Her mother was sitting by the window. "Ain't ye goiu' to git supper?" 
she quavered; "it's 'most six o'clock." Mrs. Strong's withered figure 
drooped in the great armchair. Her thin hair was white and her face was 
shrunken. She wore a lace cap, with soft lavender bows upon it. Her 
black cashmere gown clung to her limply. Everything about her seemed 
weak and undecided. 

Miss 'Gusty, on the contrary, was energetic and firm ; she had too 
much will, the neighbors said. To-night she prepared the tea with deter- 
mination suited to a more important cause. Mrs. Strong noticed the 
unusual grimness, but, having learned from past experience not to question 
her daughter, she kept silence for a time. When the dishes were done, 
however, and Miss 'Gusty took up her knitting, in spite of the fact that the 
clock was on the stroke of seven, her mother's curiosity got the better of 
of her. "Why, 'Gusty Strong!" she exclaimed, " hev ye forgot choir 
rehearsal?" "Did I ever forgit it?" was the only reply; but the needles 
clicked warningly. Mrs. Strong sank back in helpless wonder. 

The evening dragged along. At nine the elder woman, still wonder- 
ing, said "goodnight" and went to bed. Shortly after, Miss 'Gusty 
brought in the bird from the porch, locked the outside doors, and wound 
the clock. Then she went into her own narrow room, which opened out of 
Mrs. Strong's, and turning the key softly, sat down upon the edge of the 
bed. She was trembling from head to foot, though her face was rigid. She 
drew forth the crumpled note, but held it for a while without unfolding it. 
Finally she read in a slow whisper, as if to convince herself that the words 
were real, — 

Dear Mame : — 

Call at seven for me, please. I suppose we shall sing the same worn-out 
hymns to-morrow. Why doesn't some one tell Miss 'Gusty that she is too anti- 
quated to be useful? The idea of having her for a leader! Such a voice! It 
seems too bad that 

Miss 'Gusty's eyes were blinded with unusual tears. She buried her 
face in the pillows and cried as she had never cried before, save once. Her 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZLNE. 427 

memory went back, over the years, to the day when she had stood for the 
first time in the choir gallery, and raised her fresh young voice in praise to 
God. She thought of Nathan Edwards, and how he used to walk home 
with her after meeting. She thought again, with weary bitterness, of the 
pretty face which had come between them, and of her stern resolve that no 
one should know she cared. She thought of the dreary Sundays that had 
followed those early, happy Sabbaths. And then she recalled the pride she 
had felt later, when she was appointed choir leader. Her joys had been so 
few, she clung to this one almost pitifully. 

She had always served the church well, but from this time on, her 
church work had been her life. She loved even the little square, white- 
walled vestry, with its box stove and rows of high-backed settees, where 
every Saturday night, for twenty years, she had conducted rehearsals. 
Here, too, every Sunday afternoon, for more than twenty years, she had 
taught a class of restless boys and girls. Of late, this same cramped room 
had been the meeting place of the " Band of Promise," which she had organ- 
ized and built up. She had delighted so much in these quiet pleasures. 



That evening, when Miss 'Gusty did not appear with the other members 
of the choir, there was much wonder. Never before, in all her long term of 
service, had she missed a rehearsal without sending some word. When, at 
half-past seven, she had not come, Willard Adams took her place and led. 
He was a round-faced, sunburned young man, with a great deal of self- 
confidence. He sang loudly and kept good time. The other singers were 
evidently pleased with his leading. 

Once or twice during the evening Mattie Jordan felt rather disturbed. 
She hoped there had been no mistake about that note. She even decided to 
call, on her way home, and see if Miss 'Gusty were sick. But a half hour 
later, when she passed the Strong house with Willard Adams and Mamie 
Reed, Miss 'Gusty had quite slipped from her mind. 

After all, no one was much surprised when 'Gusty Strong resigned her 
position in the choir. " I sh'd think she would be tired of it by this time," 
said good Mrs. White, and she voiced the general feeling. When it was 
discovered that Miss 'Gusty had also given up her class and her mission 



428 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

work, there was some talk, of course, but it soon died out. It was univer- 
sally agreed that a younger person was really needed to interest and govern 
the children. Mattie Jordan, however, never discussed the subject. 

Mabel A. Carpenter. 

AT NIGHTFALL. 

Slowly sinks the glowing sun, 
All is quiet as a nun; 
Drowsy dronings have begun 
Of the bees. 

On the lofty elm-tree's crest, 
Ere he takes his evening rest, 
Twittering softly from his nest, 
Calls the wren. 

Out of neighboring marshy bogs, 
Comes the sound of lusty frogs, 
Calling from the mossy logs 
To their friends. 

And the distant hills around 
Echo to the church-bell's sound, 
Bidding rest and peace abound 
O'er the land. 

Constance L. Rothschild, '96. 

BEAUTY AS FOUND IN SPENSER. 

The "Faery Queene" is everywhere enriched and ennobled by an all- 
pervading sense of beauty which gives a touch of the ideal to even the 
most commonplace incident. Each of its many pictures has a distinct 
quality. Though they are sometimes interspersed with horrible, even loath- 
some scenes, yet these, by their darkness, make the gleams of beauty 
all the brio-hter. 

This continual contrast is the conscious or unconscious revelation of 
the importance which Spenser attaches to beauty. To him it is something 
divine and "heavenly born," "mother of love and of all worlds' delight." 
Every creature acknowledges the holiness of beauty. The gods stand all 
astonished at the fair face of Mutabilitie, 

"Such sway does beauty even in heaven bear." 



THE WELLE SEE T MAGAZINE. 429 

The lion on beholding the beauty of Una 

"His bloody rage assuaged with remorse, 
And at the sight forgat his furious force." 

This susceptibility enters into all Spenser's favorite characters. Guyon, 
in the Bower of Bliss, can scarcely control " those wandering eyes of his." 
Britomart, too, in the house of Busyrane, "did greatly wonder, ne could 
satisfy her greedy eyes with gazing a long space." But the human beauty 
of Britomart herself is more effective than the grace of art. All feel the 
spell of her loveliness, and the most true feel it the most deeply. Such 
is Scudamore, who, at sight of her, "did worship her as some celestial 
vision." 

The loveliness of beauty as appealing merely to the eye, is closely felt 
in Spenser's attitude toward natural beauty. Nature surely has her part in 
the "Faery Queene," but so much more is it a poem of humanity, that we only 
occasionally catch sight of her. She is always associated with peace and 
quiet. What seems to us sublime is often only dreadful to Spenser. The sea 
is to him a " weary gulf," rich " through the overthrow and wrecks of many 
wretches" ; the " craggy cliff" " a dangerous and detestable place." But the 
quiet country, the "grassy greene," the "crystal stream," and pleasant 
forest glades where Nature is always in friendship with man, are very dear 
to him. "When we reach one of these spots in the "Faery Queene," we feel 
that Spenser has indeed seen it, and felt it, and loved it. When he wishes 
to show us a " dainty place," "as it an earthly paradise had been," he takes us 
to " a pleasant glade," 

" With mountains round about environed, 
And mighty woods which did the valley shade, 
And like a stately theatre it made, 
Spreading itself into a spatious plaine, 
And in the midst a little river plaide, 
Among the pumy stones which seemed to plaine, 
With gentle murmure tbat his course they did restraine." 

But it is only in "fair, sunshiny weather" that this beauty can appear. 
Since beauty is ever associated with gladness, the face of Nature cannot be 
beautiful without the gladdening sunlight. Night is a blemish, defacing all, 
" ne letting see the beauty of the Maker's work." From this may 
arise the continual allusions to the sun when other reference to Nature is 



430 THE WELLE BLEY MAGAZINE. 

absent. To say that the sun is risen, is, to Spenser, to say that beauty has 
come to the world. Though this childlike enjoyment of the external beauty 
of Nature prevails throughout the " Faery Queene," yet Spenser feels deeply 
the mystery of this beauty, the force of which this is but the "garment, 
bright and wondrous sheene." The spirit of Nature wears a veiled face, but 
when she appeared on Arlo Hill, it was said 

" That it so beauteous was 
And round about such beams of splendour threw 
That it the Sunne a thousand times did pass." 

It is at the presence of this mystic power, that 

' ' The Earth herself of her own motion 
Out of her fruitful bosom made to grow 
Most dainty trees, that shooting up anon 
Did seeme to bow their blooming heads full lowe 
For homage unto her and like a throne did showe." 

The love of Nature is strong in Spenser ; but it is in the struggle of the 
human soul after the ideal purity and beauty, in the hope for the ultimate 
blending of the sensuous and spiritual, that his greatest work lies. With his 
high conception of beauty, a human face cannot be lovely without a beautiful 
soul behind. "All that fair is, is by nature good." His tender chivalry 
leads him to see the most perfect revelation of beauty in woman. All his 
favorite heroines, with their perfect beauty of face, are absolutely pure. It 
is true, Spenser acknowledges "that goodly beauty, alle heavenly born, is 
foul abused." But it is noticeable that women of this class are rare in the 
"Faery Queene," and when they do appear, their deviation from nature is often 
suggested by the false positions in which they are placed. Duessa is beauti- 
ful, but only when she becomes the false Fidessa. As the fair is the good, 
so is the converse true. 

"All that's good, is beautiful and fair." 
Though Spenser acknowledges that 

" Oft it falls that many a gentle mind 
Dwells in deformed tabernacle drownd," 

yet we shall scarcely find a mind of this sort in all the "Faery Queene." 

But when purity manifests itself in a beautiful woman, he sees the 
loveliest thing on earth. Una, the most familiar of Spenser's heroines, 



i— 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 431 

though a type, is distinctly a woman. One is chiefly impressed with her 
perfect purity. A suggestion of sadness like her black stole clings about 
her. She always has some hidden care in heart, the woman made perfect 
through suffering. Even when the dragon is slain and the knight safe, Una 
is " left to mourn." Yet, through all, her " heavenly grace" is undimmed. 
She remains " as bright as does the morning star appear," and her mission is 
ever to " make a sunshine in the shadie place." 

Strongly in contrast with the meek and gentle Una is the maiden 
Belphoebe, the type of " fresh, flowering Maydenhead," perfect in " grace and 
goodly modesty." As she appears in the greenwood, she brings a divine 
freshness. She comes in the joy of her youth to do a kind deed, and goes 
on her happy way again. Like her character, her beauty is fresh and strong, 
" able to heal the sick, and to revive the dead." Her sister Amoret is the 
type of the pure woman whose life is ruled by love, the " Lodestarre of all 
chaste affection." Her face is always gentle and lovely, " shining with 
beautie's lisfht and heavenlv virtue's orace." With her dwell Shamefastness, 
Cherefulness, Modesty, Courtesy, Silence, and Obedience, and she sits, "even 
in the lap of Womanhood." She only is pure enough to wear the girdle ot 
Florimell. 

But the beauty of "gentle Amoret" lacks the vitality of Britomart's. 
She is a splendid, active woman, rejoicing in conflict, yet governed, like 
nearly all Spenser's women, by motives of love. She is the first champion 
of purity, the enemy of all that is ignoble, yet, through all, keeps her modest 
simplicity unspoiled. In her is pictured the vanquishing power of beauty. 
Everything base, and indeed everything noble, falls before her spear, and 
acknowledges her supremacy. But without her spear the power of her 
loveliness conquers the just, as in the contest with Artegall. When Arte- 
gall raises his sword to strike, the steel itself sinks down to do obedience 
"to so divine a beautie's excellence." 

"Anil he himselfe, long gazing thereupon, 
At last fell humbly down upon his knee, 
And of his wonder made religion." 

But the perfect beauty, the "beauty excellent," is suggested by the 
character of Florimell. With her "angel's face" adorned "with all divine 
perfection," she is 



432 THE WELLE8LEY MAGAZINE. 

" The bountiest virgin and most debonaire 
That ever living eye, I weene, did see." 

" The surest sign whereby ye may her know, 
Is that she is the fairest wight alive, I trow." 

Even the false Florimell, who possesses her form without her soul, 
surpasses all other ladies in outward loveliness. But Florimell herself is fair 
with 

" The great Creator's own resemblance bright." 
For her all true knights long to fight, and for her safety all Faery land is 
anxious. Every human being, even the most obtuse, has yet enough of the 
godlike to adore Florimell ; for 

" To adore thing so divine as beautie were but right." 

She flees from all who approach her, and like the ideal beauty is hard to 
reach ; but all who see her, even in the distance, fall under the spell of her 
great loveliness. Even Prince Arthur, though true to his Faery Queene, 

" Oft wished that lady faire mote be his Faery Queene, 
Or that his Faery Queene were such as she." 

Marmell is permitted to receive her, through his great love, as love is 
the pathway by which we approach the divine beauty. Florimell is a witness 
to the absolute truth of beauty. Before her purity nothing false can stand. 
When the snow maiden, the falseness that pretends to beauty, is placed be- 
side the real Florimell, she melts away and vanishes. When 

" The noble Ladie was ybrought 
Adorn' d with honor and all comely grace, 
Whereto her bashful shamefastness ywrought 
A great increase in her faire, blushing face, 
Then did he set her by that snowy one, — 
Like the true saint beside the image set, — 
Of both their beauties to make paragone, 
And trial 1 ., whether should the honor get; 
Straightway, so soon as both together met, 
Th' enchaunted Damzell vanisht into nought; 
Her snowy substance melted as with heat, 
Ne of that goodly hew remayned ought 
But th' simple girdle which about her wast was wrought." 

Annie K. Tuell, '96. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 433 



A GIEL I KNOW. 

I like to look at her best when she droops her head so that I can see 
the delicate outline of forehead, nose, lip and chin. There is something 
vaguely impersonal about this outline, as if, though it happens to express her 
peculiar self well enough, it had originally been only a mask, inherited to- 
gether with some few of the family individualities which it indicates, — a 
mask which some stern grandfather or sentimental grandmother might have 
worn just as properly. It is marked now with her own signs of possession, 
however; the straight, determined mouth and finely cut chin, which might 
so easily have been harsh or unfeeling, are innocent and pathetic ; the eyes 
which might have been bright and keen, are merely wistful. It is a face 
which even now is sometimes sweet and tender, though the features have not 
yet thoroughly learned the trick. In the whole face, with its flush of faint 
pink over forehead and cheeks, and relief of soft, light hair, there is some- 
thing indescribably pure and touching and remote. 

Edith Ore, '98. 
LAKE DUNMOKE. 

Thou dost not need such songs as we may sing, 
Thou fair, bright gem amid the mountains laid. 
Thine own soft ripples hymns are murmuring 
To those whose homage pure to thee is paid, 
As just at eventide they wander still 
On shore, and look across thy blue expanse, 
To where the sunset glow has touched each hill 
With colors gay that on the forests dance. 
Ere long they sadden into shades of night, 
Yet night herself with love for thee is filled, 
When moonbeams fair the shadows put to flight, 
And over every place soft light distilled. 
Then, best beloved of all the mountain lakes, 
The night thy beauty all the tend'rer makes. 

Anna M. Bingham, '97. 



434 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 



EDITORIALS. 



To those students who were in or near Boston during the recent 
vacation, the German Opera is probably a familiar theme. The last season 
has seen all music-loving, theatre-going Boston plunged into the depths of 
such a sea of music and drama, Italian, French and German, as even Boston 
itself had hardly known how to drearn of before ; and all Boston discussed 
the Grand Opera — reminiscences of last night's entertainment with the 
breakfast, comparisons at luncheon, and anticipations at dinner — it was the 
one grand topic of the day. Criticism says that all this was well worth while, 
that the German Opera in Boston was a decided success, a true bit of the 
Fatherland, with its strong German voices and its grand music. On the 
whole, it was well staged and sustained, with, however, some few flaws due 
to a certain lack of scenic arrangements. Mr. Damrosch's interpretation of 
the Wagner music was excellent, strong with all the force and intensity 
which characterizes that wonderful leader. 

Professor Wenckebach, in anticipation of the Opera, gave her advanced 
German classes here some preparation for the parts from the Nibelungen 
Lied, "Die Walkiire," "Sigfried" and " Gotterdiimmerung," and also, in 
a talk given in the chapel, explained and compared some of the principal 
motifs of the Nibelungen music. We take this opportunity to thank 
Professor Wenckebach for the consequent better ability to appreciate the 
Wagner Opera. 



ii. 

In individuals, justice is a natural instinct ; in corporations, it is the 
result of slow and painful growth. Whether the well-known statement that 
"corporations have no souls to lose" has any beai"ing on this subject, is an 
open question. At any rate Wellesley's experience would go far toward 
verifying this statement. 

It is a source for rejoicing that Wellesle} r students are no longer the 
despised hangers on of Riverside and Auburn dale ; from this time forth they 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 435 

may journey to the Hub as the self-respecting inhabitants of a respected 
town. This privilege should have been ours long years ago ; indeed, we 
were deceived into the belief that it was ours at the beginning of the year. 
Did not the accumulated eloquence of Wellesley pour itself out in the good 
cause of justice? Were not the obdurate hearts of those mysterious beings 
who manage railroads moved by that eloquence ? And, alas, were not their 
hearts hardened again like Pharaoh's of old, so that they " would not"? 

But however trying the process has been, the result is most gratifying 
and likewise illustrates the wise old saw that "good things come slowly." 
If reforms were contagious, one might hope for justice in another direction. 
Imagine the amazement of visitors who travel from Boston to Wellesley 
for the small sum of fifteen cents, and are then transported from the station 
to the college in a luxurious barge for twenty cents. Verily, it would be 
true economy to have steam cars invade our grounds and to establish a rail- 
way station at College Hall. 

in. 

Ten years of hard work and undaunted purpose had their successful 
culmination on Saturday evening, April 20, when Professor Churchill's 
reading crowned the completion of the Monroe Fund of Wellesley College. 
The history of the Fund is an interesting one. In the spring of 1885, Pro- 
fessor Currier, ever seeking for new ways and means to give to her classes the 
best possible knowledge of the great art of expression, conceived the idea of 
starting a fund, the interest of which should bring to Wellesley inspiration 
and suggestion, and example in its work. The following autumn the ideal 
plan began its real existence, Professor Churchill generously giving the 
first reading in its behalf. During the ten years that have followed, many 
friends of Wellesley have proved faithful friends of the Fund also, and step 
by step, through discouragement sometimes, it is true, and by hard work 
always, the amount, $5,000, has been raised. The Monroe Fund stands 
to-day completed, an ever-existing witness ' ' to the wisdom and energy of 
Professor Currier in adding to her department a permanent testimony to the 
need of vocal training for women who are to use the higher education to the 
best advantage." It was a great delight to the friends of the Fund that 
Professor Churchill, one of its stanchest and oldest helpers, should honor 



436 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

its completion, as he did its beginning, ten years ago ; in his own happy 
phrase, "that salutatory and valedictory should both be mine to give." 
And the crowded chapel and hearty enthusiasm of Saturday evening 
abundantly testify to the appreciation of the Wellesley students, and their 
gratitude to both originator and friends of the Monroe Fund. 

IV. 

This is a day of progress, and this number of the Magazine will go down 
history as recording no less than three radical reforms in the Wellesley world. 
We rejoice in "reduced rates"; we are glad of privilege to develop our 
artistic faculties, if we have any, in musical and histrionic directions ; but the 
new departure within our very walls is the one which most truly delights all 
members of our college community. When the President announced from 
the chapel platform that, dating from the first of May, the library would be 
open on Sunday, the hearty applause that followed was but slight expression 
of our appreciation of the fact that " all things come round to (her) who 
will but wait." The additional privilege of drawing books from the library 
on any day, instead of only on Saturday, as heretofore, is also a great step 
in the direction of that wider and fuller college life which has always been 
the ideal of every true student at Wellesley. But now that we have attained 
to our long-wished-for use of the library and its precious contents, it be- 
hooves us, as students, to show our appreciation by a strict adherence to all 
library rules, feeling sure that they are only such as are demanded by the 
needs of all ; and by a still greater deference to that wise Public Opinion 
which is after all the only arbiter of the questions of our college life, and which 
will forever decree that the working aspect of the Wellesley library be re- 
served for its six days' use. 

FEEE PEESS. 



Every dweller in the Wellesley world takes a just pride in its ideal 
grounds and their many beauties. But are the satisfied maidens within its 
borders always as careful as they might be to preserve these good gifts of 
nature? 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 437 

Nothing can be more charming than the gleam of white birches — those 
"most shy and ladylike of trees" — among dark wintry boughs, or green 
leaves, and they have hitherto added much to the convenient loveliness of 
Tupelo. But the dark, unsightly blotches which have, within the last year 
or two, appeared in such numbers on the fair white trunks, are a source of 
real pain, not to say exasperation, to all who enjoy the place for its own sake. 

I make a plea for the few birch trees which yet remain untouched by 
the knife of the souvenir fiend, and beg, in the name of the community at 
large, that they be let alone. Of course it is convenient to run down and 
secure a bit of bark for a birthday greeting or the like, but, is it not a case 
of the ' ' greatest good to the greatest numbers ? " and does the pleasure of the 
moment to the few compensate for the years of disfigurement on which so 
many must look ? 

I should like to add that it seems a great pity we can ever permit our- 
selves to countenance this sort of vivisection in any case, even in the remote 
woods and mountains. It surely would be a more lasting satisfaction to 
carry away from our summer outing, in true Wordsworth fashion, a vision 
of the perfect white loveliness, rather than to bear off in our trunks rolls of 
birch bark, with the seldom fulfilled intention of napkin rings, frames, 
baskets, and such trifles, which cause a momentary glow of satisfaction and 
then serve as one more dust bearer. 

C. E. 

ii. 

There are many circumstances in Wellesley life that tend to give the 
Wellesley girl a truer appreciation of the value of time than she ever had 
before. She learns to look upon a five minutes' extension of the time 
between breakfast and chapel as a precious addition to her day, and she finds 
that the half hour from 1.00 to 1.30 is not to be despised. Office hours 
teach her that this commodity is quite as valuable to others as to herself. 

It seems strange to her that this keen appreciation of hers is not shared 
by all other members of the College. After waiting in vain for three half 
hours on three different occasions to see Professor Blank "in office hours," 
she is forced to the conclusion that Professor Blank does not regard the time 
of a college girl of great importance. She goes out to another building on a 



438 THE WELLE SEE Y MAGAZINE. 

cold, stormy day to consult her instructor on a point of some importance to 
her, and finds that her instructor has not thought it necessary to brave the 
storm for the sake of keeping an appointment with the one or two girls who 
might wish to see her. 

After several such experiences — for it may happen that she needs to 
consult those who think the keeping of office hours is unimportant — it is not 
altogether surprising if she cause them inconvenience by trying to interview 
them in the corridor, on the stairs, or after class. 

L. B., '95. 

in. 

At this time of year, when all Wellesley people are worn with the 
year's work, it becomes a matter not only of interest, but of necessity, for 
each student to consider ways and means of lightening the strain. Now, the 
possibility of easing the burden does not always lie with the student, but 
there is one matter which each student could, if she would, regulate for her- 
self, — she could keep her room free from purposeless and time-wasting 
visitors. It is sad indeed to hear a student complain that a " Please do not 
knock " sign is ignored by her friend. Surely a few words of courteous but 
firm dismissal would prevent a second intrusion by the same person, and in 
time the custom of observing such notices would be established ; for college 
girls, although often thoughtless, are quick to respect the honestly-expressed 
wishes of their friends. There is a time for everything ; but the time which 
we have set apart for study or much-needed rest, the time, moreover, when 
we have said to the world at large, " Please do not disturb," is not the time 
for receiving calls. Can we not then take a firm stand in this matter, and, 
by adhering to our principle neither to trespass nor to be trespassed against, 
gain for ourselves and our friends time and strength ? 

H. M. K, '95. 

IV. 

Since the '95 Magazine Board has retired, and since the '96 Board is 
both generous and promising, I think a word of appreciation might without 
injury be slipped into the Free Press by one who has had almost nothing to 
do with the Magazine in any capacity. The Magazine of the past year has, 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 439 

it seems to me, been very readable, not only because the so-called heavy 
articles have been on matters in which most of us could be interested, but 
also because the long-desired short stories, sketches, and artistic bits of 
biography have appeared with gratifying frequency. It is noticeable, too, 
that there have been a comparatively large number of contributors, so that 
we have not become too familiar and too critical with any one ; and we have 
had opportunity to discover that, taken altogether, we can do more than one 
kind of writing. The Free Press has made us talk, even think a little, 
although it has not been as fierce as it might have been if we had had other 
things than lunch stands and the racket in the library to get excited over. 
The Free Press is our own department, however, not the Board's ; and if we 
do not have energy enough to look about us and write up what we see, the 
loss, too, is ours. Altogether, the Magazine of the past year has seemed 
especially good, not only to the writer, but, as she has had excellent oppor- 
tunity to discover, to many other of its readers. 

J. P., '96. 

EXCHANGES. 

Lake Waban, long free, is dancing gaily in the sunshine ; the campus 
has turned from brown to a rich dark green, and the air is tremulous with 
the chatter and whir of busy birds. He who runs may read and rejoice over 
the signs of new life on every hand. Even the industrious reviewer, for a 
time deaf to the robin's call and blind to all outdoor temptations of bud and 
blossom, finds so much of the season's warmth and cheer reflected in the 
exchanges before her, that she catches their glad spirit and joins, with a 
thrill of delight, in the old, old song, " Spring has come again." 

Perhaps it may be partly owing to the uplift of April weather that the 
magazines of the month are unusually fresh and readable. The calendar 
influence is shown, of course, in the choice of Easter subjects, and in 
poetical allusions to "blue skies," "gentle breezes," and "rain-awakened 
flowers," but, on the whole, there is an abundance of good, original work to 
mark these (in many cases) initial numbers of Ninety-six boards. 

The St/racitse Univerisity JSfe/cs is, indeed, a "maiden effort," making 
its appearance, for the first time since it was established, as a Woman's 
Edition. This is the outcome of a suggestion that such a paper should be 



440 THE WELLE 8LEY MAGAZINE. 

issued for the benefit of the University Athletic Association ; and the editors 
have proved in a remarkably interesting way, the proposition set forth in 
their salutatory, that " ' Co-eds' and athletics are not mutually exclusive," 
at least in Syracuse. An article by Belva Lockwood on Genesee life when 
she Avas a student there, a brief history of the institution, and sketches of 
Society Life, Noted Alumna?, Gala Days, and kindred subjects, together 
with attractive cuts of the college buildings, chapter houses, etc., make this 
number valuable as a souvenir. 

Another special April number is the Dartmouth Literary Montldy, 
which is given up entirely to alumni. Aside from an appreciative study of 
" The Influence of George William Curtis on American Life," the most 
noteworthy contribution is the poem " Success," by Wilder Dwight Quint. 
We quote the first and last stanzas : — 

The great gods trample the fruit of chance into a vintage rare, 
And a maddening stream comes trickling down to mortals struggling there. 

Few indeed are the drops that fall from that wine-press red as blood, 
But to gain one taste of such drink divine men battle in filth and mud. 



The great gods smile with pitying scorn at the wrangling, sweating crew. 

With mocking sloth their vintage tread, and the rearing cups bestrew. 
Few indeed are the drops that fall, yet each falls by design; 

For men may battle in filth and mud, but the gods allot their wine. 

The new Minnesota Magazine fulfils in its second number all that it 
promised in the first. Its illustrations are notably good, and the general 
make-up is excellent. The exhaustive treatise on ' ' The Psycholog} r of 
Music," by Dr. W. X. Sudduth, is a very scholarly production. W. Oakley 
Stout's serial poem is also worthy of mention, although "Raljah's Revenge" 
hardly warrants such an ambitious portrayal. 

By far the "heaviest" article of the month is Henry B. Gardner's dis- 
cussion of "The Monetary Situation in the United States," in the Broivn 
Magazine. In this number, also, a timely plea for " The Cap and Gown" 
is advanced by A. R. T. Truex with considerable spirit ; and Martha R. 
Clarke, departing from the latter-day model of New England "pastels,'' 
gives us in " Mere Marette Sorciere," a story with an undisguised moral. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 441 

An entirely different, but quite as effective, lesson is taught in "A Bold 
Bad Man," by Amey O. Aldrich in the Smith College Monthly. Exquisite 
humor and suggestive description combine to make this sketch the best we 
have seen in the Contributor's Club. A clever account of " The Passing of 
John Banks," by N. E. Barnhart, holds one's interest to the end. 

Possibly the best short story of the month is "As It Happened," by 
Franklin E. Reese, in the Columbia Literary Monthly. This bright college 
tale with an ending which is, happily, only the beginning, leaves the reader 
in " a sweet maze of pleasant thoughts." It is charming. 

"As It Might Have Happened," by E. C. Williams, in the Western 
Reserve Magazine, seems to us of almost equal merit with the above from an 
artistic standpoint, though there is no resemblance whatever between the 
stories themselves. 

We regret that the Amherst Literary Monthly for April has not yet 
reached us. From the March number we clip this fine " Sonnet," by W. J. 
Boardman, whose writings, both in prose and verse, are of an exceptionally 
high order : — 

Compassionate of the wan face upturned 

From squalid rags that ill kept out the cold, 

I gave, from my scant store of hard-earned gold, 

A poor man's alms. Straightway the beggar turned, 

And, spitting, cursed my gift so small; he spurned 

Me in his rage. I went with bitter ire 

And burning heart. When, sweet as new-strung lyre, 

Low spoke a voice divine : O Heart unlearned ! 

The lot of Him the Chosen Nation slew 

Was even this, to live for them that railed — 

For ingrate, nay, for hating man to die. 

Do you complain because this beggar threw 

Thy pence aside? For pay had thanks availed. 

Giving unthanked, you gave to God on High ! 

THE OLD LIFE. 

Dost thou remember, dear, the old life too, 

As I remember — the old apple tree 

Wherein the bluebird sang to thee and me, 

And the gnarled boughs where the faint lichen grew? 

Dost thou remember, dear, the old life too? 

As that long surge of planets breaks and runs 



442 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

Back like tossed spray, and the white storm of suns 
Swingeth incessant 'twixt this world and you, 
So far, so far ! yet from the central skies, 
From the remotest calm you speak to me. 
My beautiful one not with forgetful eyes 
Laughs from those peaks of immortality. 
Like a white pearl the little old life lies 
Fathomed in that deep eternity. 

— Smith College Monthly. 



EASTER EVE. 

The cold, damp dews of evening slowly fall 
Upon the sealed stone and soldier's steel; 
No stars relieve the darkness of the night, — 
The blackness is a thing almost to feel. 
Slowly the hours wear on ; the Roman guard 
Tremble, they know not why. Some mighty dread 
Falls on their souls. Lo ! from the sealed tomb 
What light is this that o'er the scene is shed? 
Far in the east an answering gleam replies ; 
With mighty fear the craven watchers quake, 
As from the tomb and in the glowing east 
They watch that first glad Easter morning break. 

— Mount Holyoke. 



SOCIETY NOTES. 

On Saturday evening, April 27, an initiation meeting of the Phi Sigma 
Society was held at 7 o'clock. Miss Coolidge, first-year Special, was initiated. 
Miss Esther Bailey, '91, and Miss Ethel Stan wood, '94, were present. 

The subject of the April programme meeting of the Classical Society 
was Euripides, and the programme was as follows : — 

I. Introductory paper on Euripides . . Professor Chapin. 
II. Scene from Iphigenia in Aulis. 
(Lines 1317-1749.) 

Agamemnon . . . Helen el. Stimpson. 

Clytemnestra . . . Anna Chute. 
Iphigenia .... Margaret B. Simmons. 

Messenger .... Edith D. Dexter. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



443 



On Friday, April 19, Miss Chute and Miss Stimpson entertained the 
Society at Wood. 

The regular programme meeting of the Shakespeare Society was held in 
Shakespeare Hall, Saturday evening, April 27. The subject of the evening's 
study was "Romeo and Juliet." The programme consisted of: — 



I. Shakespeare News .... 
II. Verona in the Fourteenth Century 

III. The Montagues and Capulets 

IV. Dramatic Representation : Act I. Scene 

V. 
V. Talk : The Poetic Beauty in Romeo 

and Juliet .... 
VI. The Wit and Humor of the Play (Nurse 

and Mercutio) 
VII. Dramatic Representation : Act II. Scene 

II. 



Alice W. Hunt. 

Louise Loomis. 

May Merrill. 



Mabel Wells. 



Mary Allen. 



The regular programme meeting of Society Zeta Alpha was held Saturday 
evening, April 13, with the following programme : — 

Settlement of the West .... Helen Dennis. 



The Indians ..... 
The Mormons ..... 
Western life as seen in Bret Harte 
Picturesque bits of Southern California 



Helen Gordon. 

Rebekah Blanchard. 

Floyd Smith. 

M. Brotherton. 



The regular meeting of the Agora was held April 27. The impromptu 
speeches were : The Difficulty between England and Nicaragua, Alice Howe ; 
The Attitude of the European Powers toward the China-Japan Treaty, Belinda 
Bogardus ; The New Speaker of the House of Commons. The following 
programme was presented : — 

The Tenement House .... Professor Coman. 

Rescue Work ...... Arlinc Smith. 

The Tramp and Out-of-work Problem . Cora Stoddard. 



444 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



A regular meeting of Tau Zeta Epsilon was held on April 27. Miss 
Mary Jauch, Special, was received into the Society. The following 
programme was presented : — 

Origin and Aims of the Pre-Raphaelite 
Brotherhood ..... 

The Art Work of Sir John Millais 

Music ....... 

The Art Work of William Hohnan Hunt 
Music ....... 



Edith Butler. 

Margaret Starr. 

Mary Lunt. 

Alice Norcross. 



Ellen Cushing. 



Miss Ruby Bridgman, '94, was present at the meeting. 



COLLEGE BULLETIN. 



Saturday, May 4. — Reading in afternoon. Concert. 

Sunday, May 5. — Rev. C. W. Park. Rev. George E. Taylor (evening). 

Monday, May 6. — Lecture. Rev. Frederic Allen. 

Saturday, May 11. — Lecture. Miss Peck. 

Sunday, May 12. — Bishop Lawrence. 

Monday, May 13. — Lecture. Miss Peck. 

Sunday, May 19. — Rev. J. D. Pickles. 

Monday, May 20. — Concert. 

Sunday, May 26. — Rev. P. S. Moxom. 

Monday, May 27. — Glee Club Concert. 



COLLEGE NOTES. 

On April 13, Dr. Edward Everett Hale read in the chapel at 4.15 from 
his best-known work, " The Man Without a Country." In the evening the 
members of Miss Hart's classes in Freshman Rhetoric, and other invited 
guests, had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Hale in the Faculty Parlor. 

Easter Sunday, President Andrews, of Brown, preached in the chapel. 






THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 445 

Miss Ida Benfey, of New York, read in the college chapel on Monday 
evening, April 15. Her selections comprised the story of Jean Valjean 
from " Les Miserables," Miss Wilkins' "Village Singer," and a short 
numerous reading. Miss Benfey made her audience feel that she was com- 
pletely mistress of her art, and delineated character with singular precision 
and power. 

We are interested to learn that Miss Elva Young, '96, is editing a book 
of songs of Women's Colleges. The want of a book of this nature has long 
been felt, and we wish Miss Young the support and success her undertaking 
merits. 

Patriots' Day was not celebrated officially at the College, except by the 
appropriate singing of "America," at prayers. Some members of the 
bicycle club made the perfect weather and the holiday an excuse for a long 
ride ; several parties of determined-looking pedestrians were observed 
wending their way toward ' ' Pegan Hill " and other points of interest ; 
some patriotic members of the College, we understand, visited Concord and 
Lexington ; while some, woful tale, celebrated their holiday in the library. 

Miss Josephine Batchelder has been chosen editor in chief of The 
Wellesley Magazine, to fill the place left vacant by the resignation of 
Miss McLean. Miss Hefferan has been chosen associate editor in place of 
Miss Batchelder. 

Miss Currier gave a reception to the members of the department of 
Elocution Saturday afternoon, April 20. 

Saturday evening, April 20, Professor Churchill gave a reading in the 
chapel. His programme was varied and interesting, comprising selections 
from Dickens, Mrs. Stowe, and Browning. The evening was extremely 
interesting and amusing as well to those who had heard Professor Churchill 
before as to those to whom it was a new experience. He has the rare 
faculty of making the scenes which he presents live before his audience. 

Mr. Ferguson, of Cohasset, preached in the chapel Sunday morning, 
April 21. 



446 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

Sunday evening Rev. Thomas Gulick spoke in the chapel on the McAll 
Mission. 

Miss Clara Nichols, formerly of '95, was at college April 20. Miss 
Nichols intends to resume her work next year. 

Rumor hints that the personnel of the College will consist of the usual 
number of students next year, but no Faculty. Each day brings rumor 
of some professor or instructor who is to be absent. The bereaved 
undergraduate can only comfort herself with the thought that it cannot 
all be true. 

Miss Gail Laughlin, '94, is to be with us once more, though not of us. 
Miss Laughlin intends to live in the village during the spring, still continuing 
her work in Boston. 

Monday evening, April 22, the Shakespeare Society was received at 
Wood. A guest writes : "The hospitable doors of Wood were thrown wide 
on the evening of April 22 to welcome the Shakespeare Society and its guests 
to their birthday celebration. Assuredly the great master's festival was right 
royally kept, with play and players, feasting and jollity, and many a dainty 
gift. The society rejoiced in the presence of many of its alumnae members, 
Miss Hodgkins being the guest of honor of the occasion. Toasts were pro- 
posed and responded to, and the evening ended with the hearty Shakespeare 
cheer, and many expressions of ' What a good time it has been ! ' ' 

On the same evening a most enjoyable concert was given in the chapel 
by Miss Estelle Andrews, of the School of Music, assisted by Max Heinrich 
and Carl Faelten. 

The Saturday afternoon lectures on current topics were brought to a 
close April 27, by a lecture by Mr. E. Charlton Black, of Cambridge, on 
" James Barrie." Mr. Black's charm as a lecturer, we learned, had not been 
exaggerated by report, and all who were able to attend enjoyed the hour ex- 
tremely. This lecture seemed a fitting close for a course which has been so 
delightful and instructive in all its features. 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 447 

On Saturday evening, April 27th, the Literature Department gave an in- 
formal reception in honor of Miss Scudder, who has just returned from Italy 
after more than a year's absence. Miss Scudder spent a month in London 
just before she sailed, and gave a most delightful talk upon the social move- 
ments in England, and the leaders of the several parties. It is good news to 
all old students who have known Miss Scudder that she will resume her work 
at the College next year. 

Mr. John Graham Brook lectured in the chapel Saturday evening upon 
the "Norwegian System." 

Sunday, April 28, we had the pleasure of welcoming once more to 
Wellesley, President Hyde, of Bowdoin. President Hyde preached in the 
morning, and spoke to the Class of '96 in the evening. 

The Senior prayer meeting was addressed Sunday evening by Miss 
Stratton. 



ALUMNA NOTES. 

The March meeting of the St. Louis Wellesley Association was held at 
the home of the Misses Vieths, 4482 Lindell Boulevard, Saturday, March 
2. Miss Anna Vieths was in charge of the programme for the afternoon, the 
subject being "The American Woman in Music." This was the fifth literary 
meeting of the year. The subjects of the preceding meetings have been : 
The American Woman in Art ; in Poetry ; in Prose ; in Philanthropic Work. 
At the February meeting, when papers on "The American Woman in Phil- 
anthropic Work " were read, Miss Annie Bronson King, the head worker at 
the Lucy House, the St. Louis social settlement, gave an informal talk of 
much interest concerning settlement work. Although the character of the 
meetings is social and literary, a no less important feature of the work is the 
raising of a fund whereby a St. Louis girl may be sent to Wellesley. 

The Wellesley Club of New York was entertained Saturday, April 20, 
by Mrs. Frances Pearsons Plimpton, at her home, 125 East 35th Street. 
The annual election of officers took place, resulting as follows : President, 



448 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

Bertha Bailey, '88 ; Vice President, Grace Underwood, '92 ; Secretary, Effie 
Banta, '91 ; Treasurer, Caroline Raven, '86-88 ; Executive Committee, 
Mrs. Mary Edwards Twitchell, '89; Mrs. .Anna Phillips See, '86; Miss 
Marie Jadwin, '84-86 ; Reception Committee, Mrs. Minnie Lyman Hitchings, 
'76-77; Miss Dora Emerson, '92; Miss Caroline Randolph, '94. The 
annual luncheon of the Club will be held Saturday, May 11, at the Plaza 
Hotel, Fifty-Ninth Street. Among the guests of the Club at that time will 
be : Mrs. Irvine of Wellesley, Bishop Potter of New York, and Mr. Hamil- 
ton W. Mabie of the Outlook. It is hoped that there may be a full represen- 
tation of the Club and its friends. 

In Albany, March 23, at the home of Miss N. M. Pond, about ten 
Wellesley girls met to form a Wellesley Club. It was voted to call the club 
the Eastern New York Wellesley Club. The officers elected were as follows : 
President, Elizabeth Stewart ; Secretary, Myrtilla Avery ; Treasurer, Emeline 
S. Bennett. It was voted to have an annual meeting in the form of a lunch- 
eon, and that other meetings be subject to call. On Saturday, April 6, 
the first annual luncheon was held in Albany at Hotel Kenmore. , Covers 
were laid for twenty-four. After the luncheon, the president and toast- 
mistress, Miss Stewart, arose and welcomed the members. She gave a brief 
account of the formation of the Club, and also explained its object, which is 
to be purely social. The toast list, as given below, was announced by Miss 
Stewart, and responded to by the college girls : — 

TOAST LIST. 

"These are idle fancies of the brain 
Not worthy of thy thought." 

"Nay, my good lord, these be such things 
As sages think upon." — Shakespere. 

Signs of the Times Miss Davidson. 

" Ring out the old, ring in the new." — Tennyson. 

Wellesley's President Miss Brooks. 

" The reason firm, the temperate will, 
Endurance, foresight, strength and skill." — W'ordswurlh. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 449 

The Class of 95 Miss Hyatt. ' 

" Look on the life whose record is unrolled." — Holmes. 

College Athletics ....... Miss Avery. 

" Oh, 'tis excellent to have a giant's strength!" — Shakespere. 

The College Girl in Society ..... Miss Jones. 

" What will Mrs. Grundy say?" — Morton. 

The Wellesley Summer School ..... Miss Eastman. 

"Let knowledge grow from more to more 
That mind and soul, according well, 
May make one music as before, 
But vaster." — Tennyson. 

Alma Mater Miss Pond. 

"All hail to the College Beautiful! 
All hail to the Wellesley Blue! " — K. L. Bates, '80. 

The Wellesley Cheer Mrs. Dewey. 

" Over the grass and flowers and waves, wake sounds 
Sweet as a surging rain of silver dew." — Shelley. 

"Welcome ever smiles, 
And farewell goes out sighing." — Shakespere. 

Since the Club was organized, forty Wellesley girls of Albany and 
vicinity have become members, and those who were present at the luncheon 
were as follows : Mrs. Melvil Dewey, Mrs. Winifred Edgerton Merrill, 
Mrs. Peirson, Miss Linda Puffer, Miss Synder, Miss Ada Alice Jones, Miss 
N. M. Pond, Miss Van Epps, Miss Biscoe, Miss H. St. B. Brooks, Miss 
Janet Davidson, Miss May Millard, Miss Grace Eastman, Miss May East- 
man, Miss Grace Betteridge, Miss Myrtilla Avery, Miss Elizabeth Stewart, 
Miss Emeline Bennett, Miss Yates, Miss Bertha Hyatt, Miss Huestcd, Miss 
Harwood, Miss Florence L. Ellery. 



450 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

The Wellesley Alumna? Chapter of the College Settlements Association 
will meet on Commencement morning at 9.30, sharp, in Room D, Main 
Building. All alumna?, former students, officers, or teachers of the College, 
whether members of the Chapter or not, are invited most cordially to be 
present. 

Caroline L. Williamson, '89, 

Elector. 

Grace Andrews, '89, 

Secretary and Treasurer. 

The Vice Electors of the Wellesley Alumna? Chapter of the College 
Settlements Association are : — 

Miss Annie S. Montague, '79, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Mrs. Sarah Woodman Paul, '81, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Miss Alice M. Allen, '85, Dana Hall, Wellesley, Mass. 

Miss Susan Peabody, '86, 105 Washington Avenue, Evansville, Indiana. 

Miss Catharine Burrowes, '87, Monticello Seminary, Godfrey, 111. 

Miss May Estelle Cook, '88, 721 Walnut Street, Oak Park, 111. 

Miss Calista McCauley, '88, 349 Monroe Avenue, Rochester, N. Y. 

Miss Katharine Horton, '89, Windsor Locks, Conn. 

Miss Mary Lauderburn, '90, Wellesley, Mass. 

Mrs. Mary Young Allison, '90, 1535 Fourth Avenue, Louisville, Ky. 

Mrs. Mabel Godfrey Swormstedt, '90, 1455 Fourteenth Street, N. W., 
Washington, D. C. 

Miss Ada S. Woolfolk, '91, 95 Rivington Street, New York City, N. Y. 

Miss Dora Emerson, '92, 222 West Twenty-third Street, New York 
City, N. Y. 

Miss Lydia O. Pennington, '93, 2030 Euclid Avenue, Cleveland, Ohio. 

Miss Helen Foss, '94, 2043 Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 

Miss Helen Drake, '94, 93 Tyler Street, Boston, Mass. 

Miss Mary Isham, '94. 

These electors are chosen with reference to organizing and promoting 
the work in classes, and also in localities. A Vice Elector is in close 
proximity to every large Wellesley Club, and there is an especial concen- 



THE WELLE 'SLE Y MAGAZINE. 451 

tration of forces in the vicinity of Wellesley and Boston for the sake of 
bringing the College and the nearest settlement into closer relations. Money 
may be forwarded through them to the General Association. 

Alumnpe present at the Shakespeare birthday celebration, Monday, 
April 22, were Miss Sanborn, '84; Miss Bigelow, Miss Hall, and Miss 
Allen, '85 ; Miss E. Green, Miss C. Green, Miss Hardon, and Miss Stimp- 
son, '92 ; Miss Anderson, '94 ; Miss Evans, Mrs. Rothery. 

Miss M. Anna Fuller, '84, is teaching in the High School, North Adams, 

Mass. 

Miss Esther Bailey, '91, spent Sunday, April 28, at the College. Miss 
Bailey is teaching in the High School, Somerville, Mass. 

Miss Sarah H. Conant, '87, is teaching in the High School, Circleville, 
Ohio. 

Miss Margaret Crownshielcl, '87, is teaching in a private school, 22 East 
54th Street, New York, and is studying psychology in the University School 
of Pedagogy. 

Miss Clara B. Mowry, '89, is teaching in the High School, Melrose, Mass. 

Miss Caroline Williamson, '89, has been spending a few weeks at the 
New York College Settlement. 

Miss Sarah M. Bock, '90, has been visiting Mrs. Etta Parker Park, '90, 
at her home in Stoneham, Mass. One day was given up to a small reunion 
of '90 girls, including Miss Annie Smith, who is studying at Tufts Medical 
School, and Mrs. May Tyler Jones. Another day was spent with Mrs. Jones 
,at her home in Wakefield, and another with Mrs. Blanche Whitlock Carlton 
at her home in Andover, Mass. 

Miss Mary Martin Yardley, '90, holds a position in Rowland Hall, Salt 
Lake City, Utah. 

Miss Elizabeth E. Morse, School of Ai-t, '91, has accepted a position to 
teach Art in Murdoch School, Winchendon, Mass. She will also have charge 
of drawing in the public schools the present term. 



452 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

Miss Alice Stevens, '91, was at the College April 27. 

Miss Blanche L. Clay, '92, visited the College April 11. Miss Clay is 
taking a course in literary expression under a New York instructor. 

Miss Bessie Greenman, '92, is teaching in the Arlington, Mass., High 
School. 

Miss Josephine Emerson, '92, visited the College April 19 and 20. 

Miss Eliza Bateman, '94, is teaching in the Bromfield School, Harvard, 

Mass. 

Miss Clara M. Kruse, '94, is teaching in the public schools, Central City, 
Colorado. 

Miss Caroline W. Field, '94, is teaching in the High School, Bellast, 
Maine. 

Miss Bertha C. Jackson, '94, is teaching in the High School, Cuimning- 
ton, Mass. 

Miss Mabel W. Learoyd, '94, is teaching Latin and Mathematics in 
McLean Seminary, Simsbury, Conn. 

Miss Delia Smith, '94, has resigned her position at Moingona, and is 
now deputy in the post office, Boone, Iowa. 

Miss Mary Clemmer Tracy, '94, is teaching in the public school, West 
Haven, Conn. 



PHILADELPHIA COLLEOE SETTLEMENT. 

The first issue of the Coller/e Settlement News appeared April, 1895. 
The first aim of the paper will be to cater to the interests of the different 
settlement clubs. Each month there will be given a short summary of the 
work of the preceding month, announcements of meetings, entertainments, 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 453 

club nights, etc., descriptive articles of new lines of work to be undertaken, 
and any information that might prove interesting to its readers. Club mem- 
bers are invited to send in contributions of short articles, and from these the 
best will be selected for publication. If any special capacity should be 
shown by any of the members in the line of literary efforts, such a member 
will be invited to participate in its editing. The April number contains, in 
addition to announcements, an account of the Starr Garden Park and the 
prospective Kitchen. The price of this paper is fifty cents a year; single 
copies five cents. 

The dramatic presentation of Mary E. Wilkins' story, "A Gala Dress," 
given by three Wellesley girls at Denison House, April 18, was greatly en- 
joyed by both neighbors and residents. The parts were excellently well 
taken by Miss Willis, Miss Brown, and Miss Blanchard, and the old-fashioned 
costumes were also much admired. 

The "spring fever" has attacked Tyler Street. The children are draw- 
ing their pennies out of the Stamps Savings Bank to purchase bats and balls, 
hoops and jumping ropes, and the attendance at the clubs is falling off as 
the fascination of the streets returns with the warm weather. Even in this 
unfavorable region of brick walls and pavements the new life of the year 
makes itself felt, and the longing to have part in it draws old and young out- 
of-doors. You dwellers among green fields, is there no part of your spring 
you can share with us? The fare to Wellesley is only fourteen cents now, 
and a few hours in Wellesley's woods and beside Wellesley's lake would be 
a long-remembered pleasure to many a town-tired neighbor of Denison 
House. 

The South End Free Art Exhibition, on Washington Street, near the cor- 
ner of Dover, opened Friday, April 19, with eleven hundred visitors. There 
are many fine pictures in the exhibition, among them two by Greuze, two by 
Verestchagin, one attributed to Perugino, two landscapes by Claude Monet, 
the large picture of the bow of an Atlantic steamship, by Albert Munsell, 
and a nocturnal marine piece by Ross Turner. The most remarkable paint- 
ing in the collection is George De Forest Brush's new Madonna and Child, 
loaned by Mrs. J. Montgomery Sears. 



454 THE WELLE8LEY MAGAZINE. 



COLLEGE SETTLEMENT, 95 RIVINGTOjST STREET. 

The robin picture has been taken out of the closet, where it spent the 
long winter, and put back again in its old place on the wall, and the kinder- 
garten children know that spring has come. Even in Rivington Street the 
spring has a magic of its own ; the children felt it in those first sunny days, 
even before the winter's chill was gone, and demanded songs and stories 
about birds and flowers. 

Yard day has begun again, and every Saturday morning finds the Settle- 
ment yard full of happy children, reveling in the generous possibilities of a 
sand pile, the joys of mud pies, or the inexhaustible delight of swinging and 
romping. 

Several new cooking classes and a class in drawing under very compe- 
tent teachers have been started recently. Twice during the past month 
informal lectures have been given before the residents by a friend of the 
Settlement, who is in close touch with the labor movement. The subjects 
of the lectures were : " The Coming Social Revolution," and " The Doctrines 
of Proudhon." 

The engagement of Miss Emily Stewart, '92, is announced. 

Miss Clara Helmer, '93, is taking courses in History with Professor von 
Holzt, at the University of Chicago. 

Miss Harriet Blake, '94, is president of an art society in Philadelphia. 

Miss Marion Canfield, '94, has organized a banjo club in the school in 
which she teaches, Garden City, L. I. 

Miss Lydia Pennington is engaged in philanthropic work in Cleveland. 

Miss Margaret Doolittle, formerly of '93, is teaching at Gambier, O. 

Miss Elizabeth White, '93, is teaching in Evanston, 111. 

Miss May Lemer, '93, is teaching at her home in Harrisburgh. 

Miss Ora Slater, '93, spent Sunday, March 24, at the College. 

Miss Marion Mitchell played for the Wellesley Hills Woman's Club, 
March 20. 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 455 

Miss Gertrude Angell, '94, has been visiting Miss Campbell, '94, in 
Washington, Miss Foss, '94, and Miss Blake, '94, in Philadelphia, Miss Helen 
Drake in Boston, and spent the last days of the term at Wellesley on her way 
home. 

The address of Mrs. Ellen Brooks Beaver is Mrs. Wm. P. Beaver, New 
Kensington, Penn. 

Miss Harriet Merrow, '86, is teaching in the State Agricultural College, 
Kingston, P. I. 

Miss Nancy C. George, '88, is teaching in the High School, Woburn, 

Mass. 

Miss Cornelia Stinson, '90, is at home, 4436 Drexel Boulevard, Chicago, 
111. 

Miss Esther Bailey, '91, is teaching in the Somerville, Mass., High 
School. 

Miss Jane M. Furber, '92, is studying kindergarten in Boston. 

Miss Sarah P. Williams, '92, is Preceptress of the Little Falls Academy, 
Little Falls, N. Y. 

Miss Mary R. De Vou, '92, in addition to her work in the New Century 
Club and the Working Girls' Club, spends Tuesdays in teaching at the 
Froebel House, Wilmington, Del. 

Miss Louise Cook, '94, is teaching in the High School, Brooklyn, 
N. Y. 

Miss Caroline Field, '94, is teaching in Belfast, Me. 

Miss Stella M. Osgood, '94, is teaching at Gilmanton Iron Works, 
N. H. 

Miss M. Grace Stone, '94, is teaching in Paris Classical Institute, Paris, 



456 THE WELLESLET MAGAZINE. 



MARRIED. 

Hockenberry-Hemperly. — At Myerstown, Penn., June 27, 1894, 
Miss M. Amelia Hemperly, '81, to Mr. J. C. Hockenbeny, Superintendent 
of Public Schools at South Chester, Penn. Mr. and Mrs. Hockenbeny sailed 
June 28 for Jena, Germany, where Mr. Hockenbeny is spending a year's 
leave of absence in the study of Pedagogics. 

Mall-Glover. — On Thursday, March 28, Dr. Franklin P. Mall to 
Mabel Stanley Glover, '92. Dr. and Mrs. Mall will spend some time in 
Germany during their vacation. 

BORN. 

August 10, 1894, a daughter, Helen Farnsworth, to Harriet Farnsworth 
Gulick, '87. 

January 26, 1895, a daughter, Dorothy, to Mrs. Alice Day Kuntz, '87. 

April 15, 1895, at Arlington, Mass., to Mrs. Lena Brown Preston, '90, 
a son. 



DIED. 

At Arlington, Mass., Saturday, April 27, 1895, Lena Brown Preston, 
Wellesley, '90. 



AD VERTISEMENTS. 



Jameson & Knowles Company, 

LEADING STYLES IN 
HIGH-GRADE 

Boots, Shoes, and 
Slippers. 

Specialties: Custom "Work, Party Shoes 

COLLEGE DISCOUNT. 



No. 15 Winter Street, Boston, 
U. S. A. 



H. H. CARTER & CO. 

Stationers & Engravers 



WILL ALLOW 



20 per cent Discount 

ON PURCHASES 

Made by Wellesley College Students. 



No. 3 Beacon Street, 
BOSTON. 



Y°u 



R attention is called to our stock of 



Gold and Silver Stick Pins ! 
Birthday Gifts ! 



Souvenir Spoons, Souvenir Cups, 
Hair Ornaments. 



Toilet and Desk Furnishings in Sterling and Plated Silver; Marble and Iron Clocks, $6.00 to $20.00. 

Stock in all departments always complete. 



A. StOWell & Co., 24 Winter Street, Boston. 



Cotrell & Leonard 




Albany, 
New York, 

Makers of 

Caps and 
Gowns 

To the 

American . . 
Colleges. 

Illustrated . . . 

Catalogue and 
Particulars on 
Application. 



Artists' Materials . . . 

g-K Drafting Instruments. 
Art Studies and Books. 

Oil and Water Colors, Crayons, Materials 
For Tapestry, Painting, etc. 



Wadsworth, Howland & Co. 

(Incorporated) 

82 and 84 Washington Street, Boston. 

Branch Store in the 

Grundmann Studios, Clarendon Street, 
Near St. James Avenue. 

Principal Factories ..... 

Maiden, Mass., and South Paris, Maine. 



AD VERTISEMENTS. 



FINEST GRADE 




Mackintoshes and Cravenettes, 


WALNUT HILL SCHOOL. 


$2.00 TO $25.00. 






IHellesley Preparatory, 


Prices 25 per cent lower than Dry Goods Stores. 


. . . Special IO per cent to Wellesley Students . . . 


NATICK, MASS. 


RUBBER GOODS OF EVERY DESCRIPTION. 








Metropolitan Rubber Co., 


Miss Charlotte H. Conant, B.A. 


CLEAVE & KRIM, 


Miss Florence Bigelow, M.A. 


49 SUMMER STREET. BOSTON. 






Gloves and Veiling. 



MISS M. F. FISK, 

44 TEMPLE PLACE, 







Calls the attention of the Young Ladies to her stock of Kid, Undressed Kid, and Dog Skin Gloves that 

are suitable for all occasions, also her very becoming stock of Veilings, and solicits their 

patronage, and will give to any of the students 6 per cent discount. 



Hotel Bellevue, 

EUROPEAN PLAN, 

17 TO 23 BEACON STREET . . BOSTON. 


LAWRENCE, WILDE & CO., 

Manufacturers of First-class 

FURNITURE 


Special attention given to Club Dinners and Receptions. 

RATES FROM $1 TO $5 PER DM. 

TWO FIRST-CLASS CRFES IN HOTEL. 


AND 

Interior Decorations, 

Nos. 38 to 48 Cornhill, 




GEO. B. DAKROW. RO^XTlIN] 
CHAS. P. DVEK. • • • IJV-'O 1 WM^ 



AD VERTISEMENTS. 



BOOKS 



in all Departments 
of Literature 



can be found at our store. The largest 
assortment in Boston of the popular and 
standard authors. Also a large variety 
at special reductions. Large variety of 
Bibles, Prayer Books, Booklets, etc. 



We are noted for low prices. 



UE WOLFE, FISKE & CO., 

The Archway Bookstore, 

361 tfi 365 WASHINGTON ST., BOSTON. 



Shreve. Crump I Low Go. 

Jewelers «? Silversmith 



147 TREMONT STREET, CORNER OF WEST. 



Fine Stationery. Card Engraving. 



Programs and Invitations, both printed and 
engraved. Class Day Progams a specialty. 

Class Pins designed and manufactured to 
order. 

Parasols and Umbrellas made to order, re- 
covered and repaired. 



FINEST ROADBED ON THE CONTINENT. 




. .ONLY. . 

First Class TUmfi Gar 

TO THE WEST. 



Through Trains Leave Boston as follows : — 
8.30 a. m. (ex. Sunday) Day Express. 
10.30 a. m. (daily) Chicago Special. 
2.00 p.m. (daily) North Shore Limited. 
3.00 p. m. (ex. Sundays) St. Louis and 

Chicago Express. 
7.15 p. m. (daily) Pacific Express. 

SPRINQFIELD LINE 



Hartford, New Havens New York. 



LEAVE IJOSTON. 


ABBrVE NEW YOBK. 


9.00 a. m. 


(ex. Sunday) 3.30 p. m. 


11.00 a. m. 


(ex. Sunday) 5.30 p. m. 


4.00 p. m. 


(daily) 10.00 p.m. 


11.00 p. m. 


(daily) 6.41 a. m. 


For tickets, 


information, time-tables, etc., applv 


nearest ticket agent. 




A. S. HANSON, 




General Passenger Agent. 



AD VERTISEMENTS. 



WRIGHT & BITSON. 



New Tennis Catalogue is free; now ready, and will 
be sent to any address. 



Our General Athletic Catalogue will be issued 
April ist. 

Special rates to Wellesley Students. 



WRIGHT & DITSON, 

No. 344 Washington Street, 

(Near Milk), 
BOSTON, 9IASS. 



HE/N-Ry C HASKELL 

11 John Street, /New t|ork, 



Designer and Maker 

Society Badges, 
Fraternity Pins, 
Rings, Emblem 
Jewels of every 
Description. 

MEDALS — Trophies for presentation, from original 
and artistic designs. Special designs, with esti- 
mates, furnished on application. Inquiries by 
mail promptly attended to. We send design 
plates FREE upon request. 




Wellesley Pins can be obtained from Miss Eliz- 
abeth Stark, Business Manager of Magazine. 



The Dana Hall School, 



WELLESLEY, MASS. 

Pupils are prepared for regular or for special courses at 
Wellesley College. 

Price for Board and Tuition, $500 for the school year; 
Tuition for day pupils, $125. 

For further information address the Principals : 



Julia A. Eastman, 
Sarah P. Eastman. 



Xldellesle^ |pbarmaq>, 

CHARLES W. PERRY, 
Proprietor. 


CUTTER & CUTTER, 

MANUFACTURERS OF 

Trunks and Bags, 


Pure Drugs and Medicines. 


No. 22 Chauncy Street, 
BOSTON. 






Physicians' Perscriptions a Specialty. 


DISCOUNT TO WELLESLEY STUDENTS. 



AD VERTISEMENTS. 



DAINTY EFFECTS IN- 



CREPE PAPER 

Universally used as a decoration for 
Colored Teas and Truncheons. 

Twice as effective, equally as durable 
and half as expensive as Silk or Crepe 
Cloth. 

Thirty different shades in rolls ten 
feet long and twenty and a half inches 
wide. 

Price per roll, 30 Cents. 
DENNISON'S 

ART DEPARTMENT, 

3So. 28 Franklin Street, Boston. 

For Fine Millinery 

Visit . . . 

GEORGE M. WETHERN 

No. 21 Temple Place, 
Boston. 



CORNS 



The Senior Class Photographer 
is . . . 

Charles W. Hearn, 

No. 392 Boylston Street, 

Boston, Mass. 
Arrange dates with the Senior Class Photograph 
Committee : 

Miss Bertha Morrill. 
Miss Caroline Jacobus. 
Miss Sophie Voorhees. 



Also Photographer to 



OP-KEN1S0N-) 



Corns. 25 cents: 

lN-GR0WlN&NWLS,50CT5;MANICURIN&,75tTS. 

plaster for tender feet, 25cts. 

Ladies' and Gentlemen's rooms 
entirely separate 

13 WINTER STREET. 



Amherst College . 

Dartmouth College 

Mt. Holyoke College . 

B. U. College of Liberal Arts 

Lasell Seminary 

Wesleyan University 

Etc., etc. 



'95 

'95 
'95 
'95 
'95 
'95 



MM 



liliilifi 

SU The Standard for All. 



® 



® 



® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 



Bicycles 

Highest Quality of All. 




® 
® 

® 
® 

® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
® 
®®®®®®®®®®®<S>®®®®®® 



Have you feasted your eyes upon 
the beauty and grace of the 1895 
Columbias ? Have you tested and 
compared them with all others ? 
Only by such testing can you know 
how fully the Columbia justifies its 
proud title of the : 'Standard for the 
World." Any model or equipment 
your taste may require, $ J QQ 

MFG. CO. 

HARTFORD, Conn. 

New York, 
San F7-ancisco, 
Buffalo. 

An Art Catalogue of these 
famous wheelsand of Hart- 
fords, $80 $60, free at Colum- 
bia agencies, or mailed for 
two 2-cent stamps. 




AD VERT1SEMENTS. 



Leonard N. Howe, D.M.D. 

HOTEL PELHAM, 

Corner Boylston and Tremont Streets, 

BOSTON. 

Late Instructor of Operative and Surgical 
Dentistry in Harvard University. 



Office Hours, 9 A. M. to 5 P. M. 



EYE GLASSES 




Oculists' prescriptions correctly filled. 
Glasses carefully fitted and adjusted to 
insure nose comfort. 



Ten per cent discount to 
Wellesley Students. 



LORGNETTES. 
THERMOMETERS. 
CHATELAINE CASES. 
All kinds of spectacle repairing neatly executed. 
References given. 

CHARLES W. HURLL, Jr., Practical Optician, 

409 Washington St., (between Winter and Bromfield Sts.) 
BOSTON. 



•••Kine Carpets- •• 

the finest line of specialties in 

AXMINSTERS, WILTONS, AND BRUSSELS CARPETS 

ever offered by us. these are all our patterns, with a full line 
of the famous london furnisher, 

William Morris's Patterns in Carpets and Hammersmith Rugs. 



We feel that our Fall Stock will bear the Closest Inspection. 

Joel Goldthwait & Company, 

Nos. 163 to 169 Washington Street, Boston. 



SHIRT WAISTS. 




OIV MAY 15th we shall open the largest 
and most complete line of Ladies' Iiaundried 
and rnlaundried Shirt Waists ever shown in 
this -vicinity, at as low prices as same can be 
found in Boston. 



10 per cent discount on Waists to Wellesley 
Students. 



J. B. LEAMY, Walcott Building;, NATICK, flASS. 



WOMAN'S MEDICAL COLLEGE 

OF THE 

NEW YORK INFIRMARY. 

Session '94.-9$ opens October 1, 1894. Four years, Graded Course. Instruction 
by Lectures, Clinics, Recitations and practical work, under supervision in Laboratories 
and Dispensary of College, and in U. S. Infirmary. Clinics and operations in most of 
the City Hospitals and Dispensaries open to Women Students. 

For Catalogues, etc., address 

EMILY BLACKWELL, M. D., 

321 East 15th Street, New York. 

COI-UTUfBIH BICYCLE. 

She : When we got our wheels last year we didn't suppose 
there could be any better ones, did we ? 

He : No ; but the '95's are ahead of them. They are 
lighter, and at the same time stronger, because of the new 
nickel-steel tubing. 

She : The saddles are more comfortable than ever before. 

He : Yes, and the wheels are safer, too. The guards, 
rubber pedals, foot rests, and brake work make them models 
for safety and comfort. 

She : And is it true that the price has been reduced when 
the wheels are so much improved ? 

He: Yes; the company has established the standard 
price at $100, which must insure a tremendous increase in 
the number used. 

DOMINICK DUCKETT, Agbnt. 

AND INSTRUCTOR IN RIDING. 




Free Instruction to purchasers. 
All orders promptly executed. 
Catalogues free on application. 



WELLESLEY COLLEGE, 
WELLESLEY. 



TP fti to pcsde. 

0/ ifrwrt&r' n^e 





'MrA 



fin 

Eanips 
bill? 

£ffli)FS 
to 

mafrlj. 



In every department of our store we allow Wellesley 

Professors and Students a discount, 

generally 10 per cent. 



During the year you will notice many attractive goods which your friends at home 
would be glad to see. We shall be glad to send samples at your request. 

Dress Goods, Hosiery, Neckwear, Millinery, 
Underwear and Art Embroideries 

are perhaps some of the departments most interesting to students, but the discount applies 
to every department. 

R. H. STEARNS & CO., 

Tremont Street and Temple Place - - BOSTON, MASS. 




Formerly Designer for Celeste. 



IMPORTER AND DESIGNER OF 

RICH AND ARTISTIC 

niLLINERY 

In Attractive and Exclusive Designs specially 

adapted for young ladies, and not to 

be found elsewhere. 



LATEST ENGLISH and NEW YORK WALK- 
ING HATS, SAILORS, and ODD TURBAN 
SHAPES, constantly received and at 
VERY REASONABLE PRICES. 

A DISCOUNT OF 10 PER CENT ALLOWED TO 
PROFESSORS AND STUDENTS. 



ALLAND, 112 Tremont Street, 

Under Studio Building, Boston. 




146 Tremont Street, Boston. 

Branch of 

863'Broadway, 3*J. Y. 



Pure, Fresh, and Delicious 



Candies- 



A Choice Selection of Fancy Baskets, 
Boxes, and Bonbonnieres constantly 
on hand at very reasonable prices. . . 

Mail Orders given Prompt Attention. 



Frank Wood, Printer, Botton.